Hidden in the Past
by Lucinda
Summary: response to Xander's Real Father Challenge. What if Xander wasn't really a Harris? What if his father was someone very different?
1. Hidden in the Past

Xander's Real Father Challenge  
  
Hidden in the Past  
  
Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13 to 16?  
  
pairing: Jean/James, Jean/Mark  
  
disclaimer: I do not hold legal rights to anyone you recognize or to the worlds they have been borrowed from.  
  
distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, anyone else that wants it, just ask.  
  
chronology/continuity note: James Howlett is the name Marvel Comics has produced for Logan(Wolverine). I am using the movie timeline for dates and events.  
  
prolog  
  
Mark Harris was watching HER, feeling the intense need and desire that always went through his body when he looked at her. Jean Phillips was a goddess among women, sleek and graceful and so temptingly feminine, without looking like a tramp the way so many other women and girls did. She was perfect, glorious. She would be his.  
  
He would be the one to run his fingers through her long dark hair, the one to gaze into her sparkling eyes as she smiled adoringly. It would be his hands that caressed her smooth skin and took pleasure from her night shrouded caresses.  
  
He didn't care what it took. She would be his.  
  
After all, he'd been waiting for the perfect chance since he was in tenth grade, when she'd first moved to this miserable town. She'd been a year younger than him, all long legs and uncertain movements, her eyes looking so big and soft and helpless... He'd known right then that he had to have her. He had to bury himself in her warmth and taste her screams during the most intimate of acts, to see her eyes, to taste her skin...  
  
But it hadn't been the right time. There had been that overprotective father of hers, so sure that his precious baby girl deserved better than any of the boys at her school. He'd done such a fine job keeping them all away that nobody'd been able to claim her during school, nobody had marked her pale skin, nobody had felt her heat and sampled her body...  
  
It had made him almost grateful to the meddling old fool. But he would have her, Jean would be his. Her father had talked to him, demanding a few words, mainly trying to convince him to leave his daughter alone. They'd had a big fight, one that had left him bruised and sore for weeks, but he'd left the old man unconscious and bleeding in the park.  
  
He'd been dead well before morning, another victim of the dangers of Sunnydale. Jean had been left unprotected, and when she'd started attending the local college, Mark had felt that it was now time to make his move, the opportunity had arrived. She had no protectors, and no close friends. Nobody would be able to stop him.  
  
That had been when that interfering poacher had arrived. James Howlett, an upperclassman majoring in military science and history. He had been stocky, but all of it was muscle, and even his wild dark hair hadn't been enough to keep Jean from falling for his smooth lines, his moves which had bedazzled her, wrapping her around his finger and under his spell. She seemed utterly besotted with the barbaric brute.  
  
Even worse, he seemed entirely loyal to her, so there wouldn't be a breakup for that sort of reason. Nobody was more beautiful than Jean, so how could he be tempted away?  
  
It wouldn't matter if it was difficult. Jean was a prize well worth working for.  
  
end prolog.   
  
Jean smiled at her boyfriend, thinking that life couldn't be better. She'd been a bit worried about life after her father's unexpected death, the victim of some sort of horrible violent attack while he was out for a walk, but... her mother had encouraged her to go to college, to try to learn more about herself, and to 'meet the right guy'. Her mother was very keen on the idea of college as a meeting ground for potential boyfriends or husbands, considering the possibility of a degree to be entirely secondary.  
  
It was at college that she'd met James. He was three years older, and taking a double major in military science and history. Tall, with broad shoulders and wild dark hair, he looked perfect to star in every woman's most wild and passionate dreams. And he had chosen her. They'd bumped into each other at the campus bookstore, and again around town a few times, and eventually decided to just try dating, since they kept bumping into each other.  
  
Maybe it was fate.  
  
He'd been such a charming gentleman with her, encouraging her to try new things, but never pushing her to sleep with him, despite his persistent flirting. He'd said that when the time was right, she'd want to, and he could wait. Then he'd grinned and kissed her, whispering that he could still give her a few peeks to try to help her decide that soon would be better than later.  
  
James Howlett... intelligent, charming when he tried, although he had a bit of a temper, always seeming comfortable and confident where ever he was... James the thrill seeker. He was perfect for her, and he kept telling her how perfect she seemed to him. He would bring her flowers, had made an effort to learn exactly what her favorites were and delivered them, even sending her a small pot of violets before each major test, to remind her that she was loved.  
  
He'd promised to take her out for dinner tonight, to that new Italian place that she'd heard such good things about. There had also been a few hints that tonight would be special. Jean couldn't wait.  
  
She fussed with her appearance, debating dresses and hairstyles for well over an hour, twisting her dark red brown hair into all sorts of styles before deciding that a simple french twist would be best, with a few pale flowers as an accent, and a pale sundress that suggested her figure without clinging to everything. She hoped that she looked good.  
  
He arrived in his car, a deep blue mustang convertible. She loved riding with him, the top down, the wind in her hair and James beside her... That car was wonderful. And James looked... oh wow, he looked wonderful.  
  
Apparently he felt the same way, considering his expression when he was her. His eyes went dark, and he leaned forward, licking his lips slightly. "Jeannie... you look... darling, you look wonderful."  
  
She smiled, feeling almost powerful in that moment. The way that James was looking at her... it was as if she was the center of his world. Jean had to admit that it was a good feeling.  
  
James must have made a few arrangements, because their dinner was on the back patio, lit by a combination of candles and a few paper lanterns. They sat in near isolation, looking over the beach as the moon rose over the ocean, a gleaming orange gold mass in the sky. The whole scene was so romantic that Jean could hardly believe it.  
  
Dinner was wonderful. The food was delicious, the sea air smelled refreshing and whispered of the wild outdoors. His eye rarely left hers, and he kept smiling, this smile that hinted of some secret knowledge.  
  
When the waiter finally asked if they wanted dessert, and was politely refused, James slid out of his chair, walking around to Jean's side. He pulled a small box from his pocket, holding it in one hand as he gazed up at her, a trace of nervousness showing in the tiny trembling of his hand.  
  
"Jeannie? Will you... would you marry me?"  
  
Tears of joy blurred her vision as she flung her arms around him, sounds of pure happiness emerging from her rose colored lips.  
  
"I'd love to marry you, James Logan Howlett." Jean finally managed to get an answer out in words.  
  
end part 1.  
  
Everything was wonderful, and their wedding was organized in short order. Logan had bought a house, and they had started picking furniture together, all the sort of plans for making a home together, instead of just a place where two people lived. They were so much in love that anybody could see it. Her mother, her friends, even that creepy Mark Harris. Everyone was so happy for them, and she was still planning to get her degree in nursing. They would be so happy together.  
  
It felt like no time at all until they were married, legally bound together until death do them part. She couldn't be happier. Not only that, but the nights... well, she rather wondered why she'd been so nervous. He was strong and passionate and things between them were oh so pleasurable. It made her get flustered just to think about it.  
  
Jean was delighted with her husband, and they even had more time together since college was out for the summer. James had a part time job with one of the local construction companies, and he was working a bit more during the summer, but they still had plenty of time together. Things would have been entirely perfect except for this nagging sort of bug that she'd caught, making everything taste flat, and her stomach did these weird flips and rolls at about three in the morning. But she would get over it, and everything would go back to the picture of early marital bliss.  
  
He'd laugh, and tease her about the way the summer sunshine was turning her hair red, and say that it looked like fire when she was backlit. He kept doing sweet things for her, bringing tiny flowers, brushing her hair for her at night, rubbing all the tensions out of her back. She was one of the luckiest women in the world.  
  
One saturday, they decided to go for a picnic on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The cliffs weren't particularly high, but the view was nice. Still, it was best to be careful, there was a vicious undertow along this section. James had just sat the basket down, laughing about her healthy appetite when the shot rang out. There was something red on his shirt, a spreading stain, and he swayed on his feet, an expression of shock on his face.  
  
"Jean?" His voice was a hoarse whisper, as if he wanted her to tell him that it wasn't true, that everything was just fine...  
  
He reached out to her, his fingertips brushing hers as he swayed, and then he toppled over the cliff, a startled noise emerging as he fell.  
  
"James!" She lunged, trying desperately to catch him, ignoring the fact that she wasn't strong enough or heavy enough to keep from falling over with him. He entered the water with a big splash, and she could see a spreading red stain over the water. "James..."  
  
"Don't worry, you'll be back with him soon enough." There was a man speaking, a man with a deep, gravelly voice and something repulsive in his tone. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around so that she could see him. Ordinary height and build with a mask on, and brown eyes... He reached towards her blouse, and she screamed, her mind figuring out what he intended. This man had shot her husband and now intended to rape and kill her. She struggled, managing to knock the gun out of his hand.  
  
Suddenly, she was rescued, someone dragging her attacker off of her, resulting in a pair of men fighting, rolling on the ground, curses and shouts filling the air. She'd been saved... by Mark Harris? Jean collapsed on the ground, every muscle shaking like leaves in a windstorm, feeling as if this had been one shock to many.  
  
The masked man tried to get away, kicking Mark in the stomach, and with a rasped curse, Mark grabbed at his attacker, dragging him back down. The fight continued, looking desperate, Mark bruised and bleeding from a cut over his eye, his lip split and bloody.   
  
Mark made a forceful kick, and the masked killer fell over the cliff, now just as gone as James. Stolen by the ocean.  
  
"Jean? Are you..." Mark looked at her, his eyes bright from... everything.  
  
She burst into tears, overwhelmed by everything. She couldn't even bring herself to object when Mark took her away to the police station, reporting the attack, explaining how he'd happened to be there for his daily run, had been able to save her from a horrible fate.  
  
Jean just felt numb, her whole future shattered in a single afternoon. Gone were her plans of happily after with James, her hopes of a house full of little Howletts. If not for Mark Harris, she could only shudder to think how things would have been. He'd saved her, been a hero in her time of need. It almost managed to cause a flicker of something, maybe gratitude?  
  
Somehow, she found herself talked into marriage with Mark, and now, instead of being Jean Howlett, she found herself Mrs. Mark Harris. Once again, there were nights of passion, and she found herself welcoming his touch, just because it was the only time she felt alive anymore. The only time that she could really feel anything besides numb.  
  
Mark was so happy when she turned out to be pregnant, all proud and delighted, talking about how she would have a whole house full of little Harris children, more than enough to keep her hands full. His vision of the future had her as a stay at home wife and mother, taking care of his needs and of a houseful of his children. Something inside of Jean tried to rebel, fluttering like a hummingbird against a window, but even that wasn't enough to break out of her numbness.  
  
The police had dredged the beach area, and they'd found her attacker, but not James. His body must have been carried out to sea by the undertow, gone forever in a watery grave. She found herself growing more emotional again, weeping for James' loss in the middle of the day, when she knew Mark wouldn't know. Mark was a bit jealous, and worried that she was unhappy being married to him. She didn't want to upset him...  
  
It was with great delight that she finally went into labor, having been pregnant for what felt like forever. She hadn't had a period since her wedding... her first wedding. She was amazed that all her pain and efforts produced a seven pound baby boy, his cap of dark hair so soft on his tiny head. Mark had a name already picked out: Alexander Lavelle, after the great conqueror and his father, the new Grandpa Harris. He seemed so tiny to have been the cause of so much pain... Mark seemed to think he'd been an early baby, considering that he was so much smaller than generations of Harris' had been. Jean had only smiled, saying that she was glad he was finally here.  
  
She didn't think it would be good to upset Mark, he'd been having such a tough time at work lately... Best to let him think little Alex was early. Best not to let him count days and find out that she'd been barely pregnant when James had died, that she'd just given birth to the son of James Howlett, not the son of Mark Harris. There was no need to upset him.  
  
epilog  
  
Dressed in a white lab coat, the scientist looked at the injured man. So far, he was one of only a handful to survive into the second phase of the program. The man's dark hair had been cut short, and was trying to grow unevenly, his cheeks dark with stubble.  
  
"Well, it seems that you're responding well to the treatments, Howlett. If things continue at this rate, you just might be the first success of the Weapon X program. You'll be among the first line of your country's defense... a miracle of modern technology and metallurgical bonding." Making a few notes on his clipboard, the scientist gestured at his assistants.  
  
"Take him to the tank. I think we can start him on the immuno suppressants to prepare him for the adamantium bonding. At this rate, if he survives, he'll be a new man in two more months."  
  
With a nod, the large assistants took the unconscious man to a large glass cylinder, placing him inside. Carefully, a breathing mask was placed over his face, and he was submerged into a chemical solution that would take a page to describe, a thick cold gel with a pale yellow cast. He looked almost like a floating specimen in a jar. The analogy was almost perfect, except that this specimen wouldn't be remaining in the jar.  
  
"Begin administering the formula." There was no emotion in the scientist's voice.  
  
If he survived the procedure, there was a good chance that the pain of it would drive out all the memories of the man in the glass. It shouldn't be much of a loss, he'd been found nearly dead in the ocean, a gunshot wound in his chest. What could he have to go back to anyhow?   
  
end. 


	2. Hidden Memories

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg  
  
main characters: Logan, Ororo  
  
disclaimer: Nobody from Marvel belongs to me.  
  
distribution: please ask first.  
  
note: this is intended to be part of a crossover story called Hidden in the Past, but it is not necessary to have read the first part to follow this section.  
  
Ororo frowned as she watched Logan. He was staring at Jean, watching her as she played volleyball in the sunshine. There was a look in his eyes, one of frustration and longing that just... it set something off inside of Ororo. It wasn't right for him to watch her like that, to keep flirting with Jean despite her obvious involvement with Scott.  
  
Why would he do it? Why did he keep pursuing someone that had not only made it clear that she wasn't interested, but was involved with someone else? The only way to find out would be to ask him.  
  
He'd gone away for a while, seeking answers at an abandoned base the Professor had told him about. When he'd returned, he'd said that he'd found 'information, but not many answers'. She'd been the only one that he'd had seemed comfortable talking too, and they'd become almost friends.  
  
"Logan? I was wondering... why do you persist in chasing Jean? Surely you have noticed that it isn't working?" Her voice held some of her frustrated confusion.  
  
He looked up at her, his eyes a dark grey, like rain clouds. "Afternoon, Ro." He patted the ground beside him, an invitation to stay with him, something he didn't extend to the others.  
  
For a few moments, there was silence, and she waited, wondering if he would answer her question. If he would explain his behavior.  
  
  
  
"I've been having dreams. Dreams of being in a restaurant with a woman with red hair, the ocean at my back. Her hair gleams in the candle light, and I call her Jeannie. Or we're walking along a beach, the ocean tide washing over our feet. She loves me, and we're so happy together..." His voice was low, and she almost didn't hear his words.  
  
Ororo felt astonishment flow through her. "Dreams? Logan, are you certain they aren't merely fantasies? Are you sure that it's the same Jean?"  
  
"They feel real, the same way the nightmares about glass tubes and pain feel real. But I can't remember her face when I wake up. Just red hair, a soft loving voice, and calling her Jeannie. Remembering that we were happy, that she loved me." He was inspecting a blade of grass, as if it would reveal the secrets of the universe to him if he listened carefully.  
  
Things made a certain sort of sense to Ororo now. "Do you think... these dreams might be fragments of memory? Are you remembering your past?"  
  
"I think so. If I was involved with a redhead named Jean before, then maybe... maybe flirting with her is an effort to recreate my past. Sounds all... psycho babbleish. But I know... and I don't know. Only thing I'm sure of is that the dreams were good, a good time in my life and I want that back."  
  
She hesitated a few moments, wondering how he would react to her suggestion. "Perhaps the Professor can help you unlock the memories? Maybe we can find out what happened?"  
  
He frowned, his fingers crushing the blade of grass into a green smear over his thumb. "I don't like people poking into my head... but it just might be a good idea. After all, if I had a relationship, maybe... I want my life back, 'Ro. One of the few things I did learn was that the program made me forget, took away the memories of my past. What if there are things in my past that I need to put right? Things that I didn't finish?"  
  
"I can understand your concern. Shall we go talk to the Professor now?" She didn't want to push too hard, didn't want him to pull away from her as well.  
  
He stood up, offering her a hand if she wanted the assistance. "Yeah... might as well see if Chuck can make any sense out of my head."  
  
She smiled at him, relieved that he wasn't angry at her questions. "Why do you persist in calling him that? You know it annoys him."  
  
"Exactly." He grinned at her, an expression oddly mischievous. "To many people are awed by him. It would be a bad thing if he forgot that in the end, he's only human just like the rest of us."  
  
She could only laugh as they went to find the Professor.  
  
end Hidden Memories. 


	3. Feral Urges

Feral Urges  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main character: Xander  
  
mention of Xander's crush on Buffy & Willow's crush on Xander  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any characters or situations from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, anyone else just ask, I'll probably say yes.  
  
note: story #3 in 'Hidden in the Past', a response to the 'Xander's Real Father Challenge'. This is the first one that has significant Xander presence, though he was shown as a newborn in story #1.  
  
note 2: Some of the lines of dialog have been taken from http://studiesinwords.de/buffy.html a site for transcripts of the episodes. The initial few parts will seem very close to the episode the Pack.  
  
The sun shone bright and hot over the Sunnydale Zoo, causing the place to fill with the scents of plants, hay, warm animals, dust, and the inevitable animal droppings, as well as the scent of sandwiches and fries sold at the various little concession stands. There were the sounds of people, busily moving around in the zoo, some much noisier than others. Sunnydale High School had taken the day as a field trip, so the zoo was cluttered with hundreds of unsupervised teenagers.  
  
Buffy sighed as she let her eyes rest on the plaque that stated 'this enclosure holds African Elephants, the largest land animal in the world.' There was just something about the day that seemed so boring.  
  
She began to walk away just as her friends, Xander and Willow arrived, Willow slightly red, although it was hard to tell if it was blushing or sunburn. Xander's commentary about the zebra's mating did make it seem more likely that she was blushing.  
  
Xander looked over at Buffy, her hair gleaming in the sunlight, her expression one of complete boredom. " I'm feeling that you're not in the field trip spirit here."  
  
She gave a feeble smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes to chase away the look of bland disinterest. "Well, it would... It's nothing, I... We do the same zoo trip at my old school every year. Same old, same old.  
  
"Buffy, this isn't just about looking at a bunch of animals. This is about not being in class!" Xander's words tried to convey just how important the idea was. Not only were they not in class, but it was legal.  
  
Pausing for a moment in her slow saunter towards the aquarium, Buffy smiled, like a ray of sunlight. "You know, you're right! Suddenly the animals look shiny and new."  
  
Xander grinned at Buffy, one arm draped over Willow's shoulder. "Gotta have perspective."  
  
It didn't take long before their walking lead them to what was supposed to look like a wilderness hill, but intstead looked like a looming mass of dark stone and concrete, the drying plants on the sides looking like ineffective camouflage thinly disguising the Hill of Dread. A small sign proclaimed this to be the Hyena Exhibit, currently closed. In case the sign went unnoticed, long lines of yellow police tape stretched around it, like bright webs seeking flies before the yawning darkness of the doorway.  
  
They could see the last of the girls following Kyle, one of the school bullies, the group laughing as they vanished into the darkness of the Hyena house. Maybe it was just their past experiences, or maybe it was the Hellmouth, but something about the traces of laughter just seemed... a bit off.  
  
It was Willow who posed the question. "What are Kyle and his buds doing with Lance?"  
  
Xander barely thought about it, the answer being far to obvious to him. "Oh, playing with him as a cat plays with a mouse." Of course, that left the question of why Lance was going in with them...  
  
Buffy glared after the laughter of the bullies. "What is it with those guys?"  
  
Willow could only sigh, remembering far to many of the past actions of that particular pack of delinquents. "They're obnoxious. Professionally."  
  
Xander tried to make light of it, offering a feeble joke. "Well, every school has 'em. So, you start a new school, you get your desks, some blackboards and some mean kids."  
  
Buffy shook her head, a not of reluctance in her voice. "Yeah, well, I'd better extract Lance before..."  
  
"I'll handle it. This job doesn't require actual slaying." Xander felt a little surge of impatience. Why did Buffy keep acting as if they were helpless? Granted, Willow was't much of a fighter, but... well, he should be able to deal with Kyle and his cronies. Probably nobody would even be hit.  
  
As Xander slipped into the darkness, the building filled with a strange, almost musky scent as well as something that smelled almost like sun baked ground. He could hear Kyle and the others up ahead, looking for the hyenas, and caught just the edge of Buffy's voice floating in after him. "You don't think we should follow?"  
  
If Willow had made any response, it was swallowed up by the darkness before he could hear it. He had a feeling that Kyle and the others, his minions, were up to trouble. Maybe he could prevent it.  
  
Deeper inside the, the walls had been molded to look like a cave. There lighting was very dim, giving a dark and ominous feeling to the place, something almost primal and menacing. Bits of yellow tape had been torn down, left to fall like strange leaves on the floor. The voices of the pack of bullies and their now worried victim filled the dark.  
  
With a look of dark glee, Kyle and his fellow bully grabbed the smaller figure of Lance. They dragged him up the steps, closer to the pit of hyenas, laughing at his fearful protests. Oblivious to the swirls of green paint over the floor, they pressed him up against the bars, pushing him closer to the now circling group of hyenas. Low growls and a few noises almost like barks came up from the pit, and the hyenas gathered, almost as if they were waiting for something.  
  
Xander burst out of the shadows just then, pulling Kyle away from Lance, glaring at the bully with almost a growl. He stood between the bullies and Lance, his posture radiating anger. "Why don't you pick on somebody your own species?"  
  
Kyle scowled, trying to look intimidating, but having no effect on Xander. "What, are you gonna get in my face?"  
  
There was a low noise from the pit, the hyenas growling. A pair of them stood to each side, a slightly larger hyena alone in the middle, watching the proceedings with an uncannily intelligent expression. He looked back at the humans, lips drawn back over yellowed fangs in what might have been a challenge. The eyes of the hyenas to the right flared, glowing a heartbeat in the same garish green as the paint, the glow echoing in the eyes of Kyle and Rhonda. A few moments later, the hyenas on the left had a flicker of green, soon repeated in the eyes of Tor and Heidi.  
  
Only Xander noticed as Lance took advantage of the confusion to dart away, grabbing his notebook and bolting from the building, fear rolling from him in waves. The light flared in the eyes of the lead hyena, and then Xander's eyes glowed, and he felt another presence inside him, warm and furry, with the feeling of hot sun and supreme confidence.   
  
He straightens, rolling his shoulders as he steps forward. This body is different... moves different. The other is to strong, and Xander can only watch, furious and helpless within his own body. The Hyena leader has taken his body. Everything smelled so sharp... he could smell everything, hear so much more... Except that something wasn't surprised. These must be the senses of the hyena, somehow here with it's spirit.  
  
With a smile nothing like Xander's, the leader gestures for his pack to follow him. This lair is to easily closed off by the others, the soft helpless tool users that brought them here. Now, they have the perfect escape, the perfect way to take revenge.  
  
Unheeded in the pit, four hyenas wobbled around, as if uncertain how their bodies should move. The leader lay still on the ground, only very slow even breathing showing life remained in the body.  
  
end part 1.  
  
Xander could only watch as the Pack Leader who had somehow taken control of his body led his pack, now inhabiting Kyle and his goons out of the zoo. Not by the gate, apparently there were too many people and they smelled bad. No, they just... leapt over the walls, something that took far more strength than he'd thought the normal human body had. But they did it, leaping the wall easily. Between that and the intensity of everything, the enhanced hearing, smelling everything... Xander was officially freaking out. Not that anyone would notice, his body was under the control of... of one of the hyenas. He felt like shuddering.  
  
After some time roaming around the area, surveying their new territory, so different from their homeland, they separated. They would find him later. There was something... Xander realized that he could offer a little influence on this... animal that had possessed his body. He'd agreed to meet Buffy and Willow at the Bronze, and it seemed that he could influence the Hyena enough to go there. Surely Buffy and Willow knew him well enough to know that something was wrong... surely they'd notice that he wasn't himself... literally.  
  
Pack Leader wasn't quite impressed with the Bronze, and seemed to be comparing it to a watering hole, where all the prey animals would go for refreshment, the perfect place to spot and trail them from. Filled with noisy foolish prey, the soft-skinned tool users, unaware of the danger that stalked them... His lips curled back in something not quite a smile. Stupid prey-people, so unaware of everything... they deserved to die. A familiar scent, although Xander was trying to place why it was familiar, caught his attention.  
  
Pack leader knew the scents of these two females... their scents had been on the skin of his new body. There was a smaller red furred female (it's called hair), and a stronger blond, with sleek muscles and the stance of a hunter. Xander tried to convince the hyena that these two weren't prey, not helpless... that the people around weren't prey. "Girls!"  
  
The blond (her name is Buffy! She's my friend.) looked at him, her teeth flashing or a moment in a sign of rank, an assertion that she was a dominant female. "Boy!"  
  
The pack leader paid little attention to the words exchanged, although Xander did get the feeling that somehow, the hyena-spirit could use his memories, and felt like swatting himself for the obviousness of that thought. Of course it was using his memories, how else could it talk, or operate door knobs? But what else might it do with his memories? His mouth was suddenly filled with something that part of him wanted to label dry, dust-tasting grass and another part of him recognized as croissant with butter. "Hungry..."  
  
Blech... the bite of grass stuff was not what he wants. There's no blood, no feeling of rending flesh with his jaws... Xander listened as the hyena complained about it, Buffy glaring in what the pack leader took as a contemplation of challenging his authority. "Man, I need some food! Birds live on this!"  
  
But apparently that comment didn't fit, and now Buffy and Willow were looking at him, their eyes full of questions, like looking at a wounded water buffalo and debating if it was weak enough to kill. The pack leader tried to shrug away their concerns, and to Xander's horror, it seemed to be working... Please no, Wills, you have to know that this isn't normal...  
  
He surveyed the area, certain that there was something that had demanded his attention, some little subtle sign... but then he let it go, allowing it to slip from his mind. He turned, smelling Buffy's hair, rich with the scent of flowers and deeper down, the scent of Buffy herself, strength and female and mmm.... The scents of flowers, they didn't come from anything he'd scented outside, in Sunnydale. So, that could only mean... "You took a bath."  
  
She looked at him, her eyes full of confusion. "Yeah, I-I often do, I'm actually known for it."  
  
Something in the memories of the other, of the pack leader were insisting that this was dangerous, that big hungry things lurked in the water... Xander insisted that Buffy was a strong fighter, and could keep herself safe from water dwelling things. He wondered if he could slip into the memories of the pack leader the way the hyena was dipping into his... "That's okay."  
  
Willow frowned, her chin and eyes going down, properly submissive behavior. She wasn't challenging his authority, but the Xander behind the hyena was certain that she was thinking, that she didn't think something was quite right. The pack leader dismissed her, concluding that she was obviously an inferior pack member, probably kept to watch the cubs while the strong ones sought food. Buffy glanced over at Willow, a look passing between them, the sort that probably was full of questions.  
  
Buffy murmured something that the pack leader didn't pay attention to. The others had come into the club, apparently tired of waiting, or maybe they finally had figured out how to open the door. They scanned the room, falling into a hunting formation as they came over, the one that had been his second and rival, now inhabiting the body of Kyle looked at him, his eyes full of challenge. He seemed to think that the fact that the Kyle-body was bigger than the body of the pack leader (Xander, damn it, if I'm possessed, why can't it be something that remembers my name!) that he could take control of the pack. The rest would follow whoever proved to be the stronger. He looked back, allowing his eyes to promise pain and defeat if the second was foolish enough to try. After a few moments, the second submitted, dropping his eyes, shoulders lowering a bit. They moved to a different table, using words to taunt the large, soft looking boy sitting there.  
  
He listened half-heartedly as the others of his pack taunted the boy, knowing that if things had been different, they would be circling around for the kill, certain that this one was too soft and weak to fight back. He chuckled as they mocked the boy, the leader feeling something almost like pride that they were adapting so well to the new bodies, the new wilderness. Turning back to Buffy and Willow, he saw that Willow was looking deep in thought, and Buffy was frowning, clearly not amused. "Kid's fat."  
  
Inside, Xander felt delighted and disturbed. Disturbed because something in him was agreeing with the way the hyena had been looking at things, horrified by the way the hyena was looking at the boy as prey, but... Buffy and Willow had to know that something wasn't right. They would find a way to fix this... they had to.  
  
end part 2.  
  
But the next day wasn't encouraging. He'd had strange dreams, hyena dreams and had learned a lot about how hyenas in the wild lived. None of it made this situation any better. Nor did the fact that Mark Harris didn't smell anything like he did, there was no similarity to the scent as the hyena memories insisted there should be among relatives. Part of Xander's mind was still trying to figure out what that meant as school began. He'd gone, aware that this was expected, that his pack should be there. It seemed to be a frustration to the hyena, all noisy and regimented order.. the same things that annoyed Xander chaffing at the hyena's limited patience. Pausing, he remembered that he was supposed to study with Willow, to go over his math.  
  
He sighed, walking toward the study area, knowing that he didn't like the math and probably never would. There was Buffy, holding a pig in her hands, talking with an older male, clearly not a good hunter - Principle Flutie. As Xander-Pack Leader passed, the small pig panicked, squealing and twisting, clearly trying to escape. The pack leader smiled, pleased that something recognized him.   
  
There was another surprise that wasn't that surprising. The Pack Leader was baffled by the geometry, staring at what his eyes tried to insist was blurred lines and swooping curves, all entirely meaningless. This seemed to worry Willow a bit, especially since Xander knew that this section was something that he'd actually been able to follow. But the Hyena didn't read, the printed text meaningless marks and blurs to him.  
  
Willow looked at him, her eyes filled with concern, and a hint of worry. "Xander..."  
  
Pack Leader didn't like this part of being human, the blurred marks and swoops that meant nothing in the real world. They would not help him find prey, wouldn't keep his pack in order, what use were they? He growled, the sound apparently audible even to Willow, who made a small gasp and looked at him, concerned, but not filled with prey-fear. He threw the book into the trash can, rubbing his temples, which felt like they were throbbing. "Better now."  
  
He stalked out of the room, his posture proclaiming his unhappiness to everyone. He was vaguely aware of Willow murmuring a comment, but let her too pass from his attention. Why was he even here?  
  
The game of dodge-ball helped some, although the pack leader had flung one of the balls at willow, still unhappy at her for pushing the swoops and blurs at him. She looked so startled, like she didn't understand... Later, he'd spoken to her, harsh angry words about the math, and insulting her, hurting her feelings in a calculated cruelty. Xander wanted to scream, how could this hyena be doing that to Willow! Didn't he know that she was his friend? Just about his only friend.  
  
He found the others of his pack, the there was the scent of something... it smelled like meat, like... "Dogs!"  
  
They stalked towards the scent, finding that it was from the hot dogs that the school had provided for lunch. But... the taste... even more wrong than the bread thing had been. This wasn't real meat! They left the bad meat for the weaklings that they had taken it from, moving away in search of something better. A memory teased at him, from earlier today... something about Buffy... no, the thing in Buffy's arms. A pig.  
  
Lips curled back in anticipation, he gestured for the others to follow him. It was simple to find the place where the pig had gone, and they could hear it inside, little noises as it moved around, a few metallic clinkings...was it in a cage? Oh, this would be too easy. They moved into the room, and the pig began to squeal, panicking. Xander pulled the window blinds down, aware that the humans wouldn't understand. "Let's do lunch."  
  
The pig had been delicious. He'd missed the scent of prey, the feeling of his teeth ripping flesh, the taste of fresh meat, still hot and quivering. They left the kill, stepping out into the air. He looked at his pack, seeing them walking in their pairs. No, this wasn't right. He was the leader, he should have a mate as well. A strong mate, capable of being a good hunter, of birthing strong cubs. An image filled his mind, golden hair that smelled of flowers, and lean limbs with sleek muscles... Buffy. Yes, she would be a good mate.  
  
He turned, something from the memories of the boy suggesting that he would be able to find her. He circled through the places that smelled the most like her, finding her den, and eventually, he found her. She was in the small room, examining the remains of his pack's kill.  
  
Inside his head, Xander cringed. He had a bad feeling about this. Yes, Buffy was beautiful, and sexy, and he wanted her so badly... but she'd never given any sign of noticing, being to hung up on Angel. Somehow, he didn't think the hyena would care that Buffy wanted deadboy... And he had the feeling that hyena's didn't do the whole flirting thing very well.  
  
Oh yeah, this was bad. Worse than he'd expected... It was like some sort of horrible blend of bad pick up lines and a fight, and the hyena taunted her, claiming that she liked her men dangerous, pointing out that now he was dangerous. There was a change in her scent, partly fear, and partly something else... The pack leader was certain that it was only a matter of time before the golden female would be his mate.  
  
That was right before the desk hit him with an explosion of pain that pulled him into darkness.  
  
end part 3.  
  
He woke up, feeling like his body was too heavy. His head was throbbing, and there as this funny taste in his mouth... But best of all, HE was the one in control. Not the hyena, he was. But he could still feel it, still feel the hyena inside him, still smell everything... he was locked in the book cage, and the only other person in the library was Willow. There was something playing, sounded like... a nature program. Listening, he could hear everything so clearly, as if he was right there. It was about hyenas, and their hunting patterns. Maybe they were working on something now?  
  
He rattled the door, hoping to get her attention. "Willow?"  
  
Only heartbeats had passed before she was in view, the dried tear streaks on her face almost imperceptible, but their salt-scent strong. She stopped a bit past the space he could reach, and looked at him, her eyes full of worry and concern, and a bit of hurt. Her words were a bit hesitant. "Xander? How do you feel?"  
  
"I feel... sort of like I got hit by a large object... a desk? But Wills... you got to help me! Something's wrong... it's the hyenas. They've possessed us..." He had to make her understand, they had to find a solution. He didn't want to have to spend the rest of his life prisoner to some furry beast that had possessed his body.  
  
"We already got that part. There's this weird ritual normally used by the Masai tribe to allow animal spirits to possess them... some sort of religeous thing that I don't quite understand. But... it can be dangerous. We're looking for a way... Xander, is it... is it really you this time?" She seemed so fragile, her hands twisting and fluttering like wounded birds.  
  
He rubbed his head, wincing. "For the moment... I can feel him, the pack leader. He's still here, but... it's like I woke up first. You have to find a way to get him out. And tell Buffy I am so sorry about this... It happened at the zoo, there was this weird thing... The hyena's dangerous. He's been looking at all the people as potential prey... I think I convinced him that you and Buffy aren't prey, but... he thinks you're weak, and he thinks..."  
  
"The hyena wants to make Buffy his mate. Sort of like you want her to go out with you, but without the whole civilized thing." There was pain in her voice, and sorrow.  
  
He'd hurt her, the words of the hyena. And even though it hadn't been him, it had felt like it to her. "Oh, Wills, I'm sorry. I'm a shmuck. Pond scum... just, please make it so I'm not a hyena. Wait... could be important... the others, the pack? They don't seem to have the human still in them."  
  
She frowned, looking as if she was trying to sort this out in her mind. "But... if Kyle and the others aren't in their bodies anymore, where are they? And if they got put somewhere else by the hyenas, why didn't you?"  
  
"I have no clue. But, look at me, you have to be able to tell that it's me, right?" Please believe me, please....  
  
Willow stepped closer, looking into his eyes, and he had the oddest feeling, as if he was falling... "You are Xander... but there's something, like a shadow... We're working on a solution. But time's running out. The rest of them... they got identified for eating Herbert. They were sent to Principle Flutie's office."  
  
Xander frowned, trying to remember. "I don't think that's a good idea... They wouldn't respect him. He's not a fighter or leader."  
  
She looked away, fidgeting more, and he could smell her nervousness. "It's a bit worse than that. They... umm... they ate him."  
  
Everything seemed to freeze. He knew, he could smell the sincerity in her words, catch the faint hint of blood in the air... "Oh my god. Why.. it's the hyena spirits, isn't it? Is that... is that going to happen to me?"  
  
"No! I.. we won't let it. We're going to find a way to get things back to normal."   
  
He could hear it in her voice, see the Resolve Face... But he'd never known that it had a scent. "Yeah... back to normal would be really good." Something nagged at his mind. "Wills? Where are the rest of my... his pack? If they're loose... they'll come find me."  
  
"They'll... but! Oh no..." Willow was panicking. He could see it, smell it.  
  
"Willow! FOr god's sake, calm down! Panicking like that won't help, they'll think you smell even more like prey!" He shook the door of the cage again, and frowned. Had he just heard something? He pushed the door hard, and it gave way with a painfully loud shriek of metal.  
  
  
  
She spun around, surprise replacing a portion of the panic. "Xander? How did you..."  
  
He stared at the door of the cage, seeing the dent where he'd pushed it. "I... the hyena made me stronger, but... whoa. I didn't think I'd be able to use that with him still out of it. They're going to try to come back here, to find me. I'll do my best to keep you safe... hopefully the hyena in me won't try to hurt you either."  
  
"It was at the zoo, wasn't it? When they took over? I think... we'll probably need to go back there to put things right again." She still smelled nervous, but no longer panicked. And she was making a lot of sense.  
  
"Sounds likely. And Wills? I'm pretty sure the whole problem with the geometry was that the pack leader can't read. The lines didn't mean anything to him." Please don't hold that against me...  
  
She smiled, and Xander knew that he was forgiven. "That makes sense. We'd best make sure he's gone before the test, then."  
  
end part 4.  
  
There was a growling noise, and they could see a face outside one of the small windows at the top of the library. It was Tor, but his face was smeared with something dark. He snarled, and his fist hit the window, sending glass shards flying every where. Another shattering noise came from the other window.  
  
Xander grabbed Willow's hand, and they ran out of the library. Down the hall, passing doors and seeing the signs of trouble, the yellow tape near the Principle's office.  
  
"Should we hide?" willow sounded afraid.  
  
"No point. They can smell you.. us. Better to run, at least until we can get to safety." Xander knew then that Willow hadn't considered that hyenas tracked by scent.  
  
She nodded, her hair flying behind her. "Right... the parking lot! If we get in a car, then we can go to the zoo. Faster than running..."  
  
"Keys?" There was the small problem that neither of them could drive...  
  
"Principle Flutie's car. He keeps.. kept the keys over the visor." She fell silent, taking in air. "One of us will have to figure out driving."  
  
Willow wasn't the best driver, but she did get them going. He could see the group of hyena possessed people chasing after them, loosing ground as the car sped away. "Umm... which way to the Zoo?"  
  
They made it to the Zoo, and there was no trouble at all finding the Hyena exhibit. He could smell Giles, and a man... the man was almost familiar smell... and he could feel the pack leader waking up. "Wills? I think... hyena's waking up now..."  
  
His muscles quivered as the mind of Xander fought with the pack leader for control. This time, Xander was prepared, and had no intention of being pushed aside. They reached an unhappy balance, and he could feel the pack leader touching his recent memories. A small snarl emerged as he surveyed the memories of the flight from the school. "Stupid... bad hunting."  
  
Looking over, he noticed the red haired girl beside him. She was important to the human... not a mate, but part of his pack. "Why are my pack being so stupid?"  
  
"You're not Xander... We think... it's a side effect of the hyena spirits stating in the humans bodies. Things start to go bad... and they're getting dumber. Eventually, they'll be to stupid to hide, and they'll be killed." Her voice trembled a bit, but she was not going to abandon her pack.  
  
Frowning, the pack leader considered her words, Xander trying to clarify a few points. Images of prison, or being gunned down by angry mobs. "How can we prevent this?"  
  
She paused, looking into his eyes. Not quite as a challenge, but more like... as if she was trying to find a scent trail. Xander knew that she was trying to figure out exactly who she was talking to. "Maybe. If we can reverse the spell and put the hyena spirits back in the hyena bodies, everyone should go back to normal."  
  
"There was something that made it easier to jump..." Human things were so complicated. How to put the events into words, to make her understand?  
  
She nodded, glancing around the area as if trying to see some hidden danger. "We know. There's a ritual... it enables the hyena spirits to go into a human. We need to go back inside to reverse it... and I think there's going to be trouble."  
  
It was becoming clearer to the pack leader now. Red might not be strong, or swift of foot, but she was cunning. She would know where to look for prey instead of needing to find it's scent. The swooping marks probably meant something to her. "What sort?"  
  
She made a small gesture, a shrug. "I don't know... maybe vampires? No, not vampires, the pack would probably kill any they ran across. Maybe trouble from your pack, maybe... if there was something done to make the jump into the people easier, then it would have to have been the hyena-keeper. Nobody would be able to do anything big and complicated like that without him knowing. He might be trouble as well."  
  
"You're the smart one then. The thinker. I can make the pack obey. As for the man..." A single human? They would be able to deal with a single human.  
  
They went inside, and there was a man, dressed all in strange clothing, his face smeared with something. Willow asked him something, and the man answered, but... Xander listened carefully, certain that the man was hiding something. Where was Giles? The hyena spirit was uneasy as well... this man looked like he was waiting for the moment to pounce. But what was his intended prey?  
  
"I'll need your help when the time comes." The man had produced some cord, and he was binding Willow's wrists together. She stood there, her face wide with shock.  
  
"Like a diversion? You'll..." Her voice shook, and she smelled of fear and uncertainty.  
  
This one is a very bad hunter... too trusting. Immediately, both Xander and the pack-leader were certain the zoo-keeper was trouble, that he had no intention of helping them. He wanted the power. He would have to go. But if it was possible to wait for the right time...  
  
end part 5.  
  
Xander could feel the Pack Leader, feel the thoughts of the hyena spirit as he watched the Keeper bind his friend. The hyena had never had a friend before, and found the concept puzzling. There was a scent... the golden female/Buffy. She was approaching, and fainter... his pack? Yes... and if he was right about the Keeper's plan... If the Keeper planned to hurt his Willow-Friend to draw in the power of the pack, it would be very, very bad.  
  
He slipped back, listening to the inside. Willow was afraid, and there was also the scent of the old one/Giles. The Keeper could not be trusted. He slipped outside, seeing the figure of Buffy drawing closer. He could hear his pack chasing her, as if they were swift running cats instead of stealthy hunters. Yes, they were becoming stupid. The blond came closer, and he grabbed her arm, spinning her around into him.  
  
She tensed, one hand curling into a fist to strike at him again. He grabbed it, looking into her angry eyes.  
  
"We don't have time for this. There's a plan, but the Keeper doesn't intend to follow it. He's inside... he wants to hurt Red. Be ready." He wondered if she would even notice the difference from before.  
  
He turned, slipping back into the building that held the lair of his pack in their previous forms. Four hyenas were moving around, whining pitifully in the enclosure, while one simply lay there, looking as if it were napping... And with a disorienting lurch, he realized that was himself/the pack leader. Ehhh, this magic stuff was complicated and confusing.  
  
Buffy moved inside, catching sight of Giles fallen to the ground. She went pale, and smelled very angry. Turning, she looked about to attack the Keeper... but that would bring the knife across Willow-Friend's throat. He couldn't allow that. He leapt, tackling the blond, keeping her from causing harm to Willow-Friend.  
  
In moments, the rest of his pack was there, some trying to join the attack against Buffy, unaware that she was a hunter. Tor-hyena went after Giles, seeing him as helpless prey, and he lunged towards him, tossing him towards the main fight. Giles was important, not prey. He kept the demons, the not right crazed killing things away. He could feel the sensation building, the bridging that would allow the Jump.  
  
The eyes of his pack flickered, his pack now moving with hunger and confidence in their real bodies. The children they had replaced were back, looking dazed and weak. He growled, and moved towards the Keeper, noticing that the knife had moved farther from Willow-Friend's neck. His fist caught the Keeper, driving him back with a slight crunching feeling that he knew meant broken ribs, the faint scent of blood on the Keeper's breathing as he gasped. He growled in satisfaction, he wouldn't let Willow-Friend, the smallest of his pack, be threatened. He hit out at the man again, and the force sent him over the railing, falling and landing with a dull thud and a few wet snapping sounds.  
  
He could hear his pack moving, rushing the helpless prey that he'd driven over the small cliff. Yes... He leapt across the void, feeling the bridge humming strong right then.  
  
Xander staggered back, his balance faltering as his body momentarily didn't know if it had two legs or four, and for a moment, he could almost feel the hyena-body around him... NO!!  
  
He landed hard on the concrete, his hip and buttocks aching from the impact. He was Xander Harris... he was human. For a moment, his skull felt so empty, so alone... He tried to catch his breath, hearing Buffy pick herself up, race over to try to save the Keeper... a futile and foolish idea. He could still smell the harsh scent of the paint used to trace the Masai diagram that had enabled the Bridge. He could smell Giles rousing from his enforced nap, smell the older man's confusion and Willow's fear. He could hear the sounds of the others, Tor and Kyle and Heidi and Rhonda as they scurried away, confused and afraid.  
  
This wasn't right... the hyena-spirit was gone. He was just Xander now, why could he still smell everything? Maybe some sort of temporary after-effects? Could he hope? Or... had this changed him? He shivered, his mind full of the various dark and unpleasant 'what if's' that might follow this having changed him. He'd be a freak and outcast at best.  
  
Maybe he'd best pretend this hadn't... that he couldn't remember, that everything was still the same. How could he explain it anyhow? He could smell his fear, a sour stink that made his stomach tense.  
  
"Uh, did I miss anything?" Giles still sounded a bit groggy.  
  
He looked around, seeing that Willow was alright, physically. She looked pale, and was trembling, and still smelled like fading fear, but she wasn't injured. Buffy had some bruises, and some scratches, but looked pretty much okay also. Time to put his act in motion.  
  
"Ahh.. what am I doing in the hyena house of the zoo?"   
  
They took the car of Principal Flutie back to the school, Giles driving much more slowly and carefully than Willow had, and Willow sat there, quiet and thinking. Buffy attempted to explain how the Zoo-keeper had found out about 'some weird ritual thingy' that would allow somebody to be possessed by the spirit of a hyena, except that they wouldn't really be there. He listened, asking a few questions, trying to make it look as if he had no clue what had happened over the past two days.  
  
It seemed to be working.  
  
end part 6.  
  
Xander was walking along the edge of the building, listening to Buffy and Willow discussing their English class. Part of him was already wishing that he didn't need to keep this a secret, didn't need to hide things, but... Before he'd gained a bit of influence, bad things had happened. There had been the pig, and Buffy... well, not in the same way, of course, but still... Badness.  
  
"I heard the vice-principal's taking over till they can find a replacement." Willow's voice was soft, but it grabbed Xander's attention, dragging him back to the here-and-now instead of his thoughts.  
  
"It shouldn't be too hard to find a new principal. Unless they ask what happened to the last one." Buffy sounded sort of wistful, sort of... as if she was contemplating violence. Yeah, definitely not telling.  
  
"Okay, but I had nothing to do with that, right?" Please, let things not have been too horrible for them to deal with.  
  
As they started to climb the stairs, on their way to their next class, Buffy spoke again. "No, nothing to do with Principal Flutie."  
  
"You only ate the pig." Willow's voice held a bit of teasing. "Not kosher, but you aren't Jewish."  
  
Xander decided to press just a little, to see what they would say. "I ate a pig? Was it cooked and called bacon or..."  
  
The girls shake their heads. Willow had a small smile, Buffy looked like she was trying not to make a disgusted face.  
  
He covered his face, thinking that might make his act a bit easier, and remembering how delicious the pig had tasted, the memory making him a bit uneasy. "Oh, my God! I ate a pig? I mean, the whole trichinosis issue aside, yuck!"  
  
"Well, it wasn't really you. You were possessed, and... not yourself." Buffy's voice was quiet, and tried to hide a number of emotions, which Xander could smell - fear, anger, uncertainty.  
  
"Well, I remember I was going on the field trip, and then going down to the Hyena House, and next thing some guy's holding Willow and he's got a knife..." He knew it was a lie. But would they know?  
  
"You saved my life." Her voice was soft, and he could smell just a hint of uncertainty.  
  
"Hey! Nobody messes with my Willow." He reached out, giving her a hug. She was his best friend, the only one that had always been there for him.  
  
They were all smiling, everything either alright or close enough that they could pretend. "This is definitely the superior Xander. Accept no substitutes." Buffy's words gave him a small warm feeling in his stomach.  
  
But it seemed a bit too easy, too simple. Maybe he should test it a bit. "I didn't do anything else, did I, around you guys or anything embarrassing?"  
  
Willow gave a small smile, one that said he was her friend, no matter what, and Buffy looked thoughtful. She waved a hand, her fingers still carrying the acrid tang of nail polish, and uttered a dismissive "Nah!"  
  
"Not at all." She shook her head. "Nothing out of the Xander range... not much anyhow." Her final words were whispered so softly that he barely caught them.  
  
"C'mon. We're gonna be late." Buffy grabbed Willow's hand, towing the redhead towards their next class.   
  
Willow looked at him, and gave a small wave and a quick wink. "See you at lunch."  
  
He waved a goodbye at them and turned to head towards the rest of the building, where he'd arranged to spend his 'free period', also known as a study hall, in the library. He was met by Giles, who looked as if he had something on his mind.  
  
"I've been reading up on my, uh, animal possession, and I cannot find anything anywhere about memory loss afterwards." Giles' sounded a bit stuffy, and smelled slightly worried, slightly amused.  
  
Worry seized Xander, and he glanced up at Giles, wondering exactly what was going on inside the man's head. "Did you tell them that?"  
  
Giles gave a small smile, and leaned over, his voice sounding very loud in Xander's ear, though it was little more than a whisper. "Your secret dies with me."  
  
Xander couldn't help it, he shuddered at the idea of Buffy's reaction if she ever discovered that he'd later been able to control... or at least infleunce the hyena and hadn't when he'd made his move on Buffy. She'd be furious. "Shoot me, stuff me, mount me."  
  
Giles just patted him on the shoulder, his head shaking as he walked along the balcony. He leaned on the railing and watched Xander go, a small murmur of almost explanation. "The idea of being possessed by a spirit so alien in nature must be traumatic enough, without people asking questions about it all the time."  
  
Xander couldn't quite believe what had happened to him. Giles was agreeing to play along with his 'not remembering' story. But... they hyena hadn't felt entirely alien, not like Giles seemed to think it should. That almost worried him more than the fact that he could still hear things far better than he should, and smell far more than he'd ever wanted.  
  
end part 7.  
  
He found Willow sitting under a tree, smelling like chocolate. She was flipping through her English book, looking almost relaxed. Buffy had been there, but was gone now.  
  
"Did you save any chocolate for me, Wills?" He hoped that she had, he could practically taste it in the air...  
  
She looked up, startled. "Xander? Sit down..." She looked into his eyes, searching for something. "How did you know that I'd had chocolate?"  
  
"I... I could smell it." Oh, his flimsy excuse was gone, if she'd ever believed it to begin with. She'd start to think about it, and then...  
  
She made a small nod, as if something thad just added up for her. "Have you been noticing any other after effects? You can talk to me, Xander. I promise. And I won't tell Buffy or Giles anything unless you say I can or it becomes necessary to save someone's life. But... I want to help you. First step, here, I saved you a Hershey bar."  
  
The Hershey bar was wonderful, sweet and rich, melting in his mouth. "mmmm. It's sort of weird. I can remember, pretty much. Not every moment, but... sort of like remembering yesterday. I can still smell things... too many things. Hearing's a bit better. Everything else seems pretty normal..."  
  
She looked at him, frowning a bit. "Maybe not." Reaching out, she pushed his sleeve up, showing his arm that should have been covered with dark bruises from the pack fighting Buffy. Instead of the dark purple blue mottling, it was an ugly yellow green, as if weeks old.  
  
"Oh shit... what... how..." Xander could only stare at the fading bruises in shock.  
  
"You seem to be healing faster, sort of like Buffy does." Her voice was calm as she stated the frighteningly obvious.  
  
"But... I'm not a Slayer. I'm just Xander. Why is this happening to me?" He could feel panic starting to well up inside him.  
  
Willow put her hand on his arm, soft and gentle, but comforting. "It's okay. I have a few guesses, but whatever it is, I'm here for you."  
  
He looked at her, seeing nothing but concern and caring in her eyes. "Okay... what might have happened?"  
  
She smiled, the expression full of friendship. "Well, the first option is that you've been changed by this into some sort of male Slayer. Filled with the power of a predator and all. The second it that this is just lingering side effects and will fade over time. Third... Xander, what if you're a mutant?"  
  
Icy fingers of dread slipped into him. "A mutant? But... aren't mutants dangerous crazy people?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "Well, some of them can do really impressive sort of scary things, but... so can Buffy. As for crazy, probably no more than any other type of people. It might explain the whole enhanced senses and rapid healing."  
  
He reached out, touching a thread that dangled from her sleeve. "Will you still be my best bud if I'm a mutant freak?"  
  
She scowled at him, smelling offended. "You are not a freak! Even... you're still Xander, and you'll always be Xander. That means that I am your friend and always will be! You're still the same Xander you've always been, just older and a bit freaked out."  
  
"Still friends, still your Xander. Yeah... Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have a friend like you?" Xander smiled, leaning on the ground beside Willow, licking the last traces of chocolate from his fingers.  
  
"Friends always. And I'll try to help you figure out what's going on." Willow's voice was full of reassurance.  
  
Yeah, he was lucky to have her for a friend. Especially if he turned out to be a mutant. Friends might get pretty scarce then.  
  
end part 8. End Feral Urges. 


	4. Lost Marriage

Hidden in the Past 4: Lost Marriage  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
main characters: Logan, Xavier  
  
disclaimer: Nobody from Marvel belongs to me.  
  
distribution: please ask first.  
  
note: this is intended to be part of a crossover story called Hidden in the Past, and more or less immediately follows Hidden Memories, and is roughly concurrent with Feral Urges.  
  
The talk with the Professor had been rather frustrating. For a telepath, he seemed remarkably unwilling to take 'because it feels real' as a reason to think that the dreams were memory fragments. He kept asking if there had been any similar behaviors that might have inspired the dreams.  
  
Logan had the distinct impression that Charles Xavier didn't believe him. It was frustrating. "If you think I should be able to remember bits of my life, why in the flaming hell are you insisting that these AREN'T those bits and pieces!?! Either everything's gone and you were feeding me a line of bullshit or there's a chance that I'm remembering and you don't want to help me figure things out. Which is it, Chuck?"  
  
"I... That is not a valid allegation." The Professor looked offended, and a bit grouchy at the suggestion.  
  
Oh, they'd argued around and around, with angry words and shouting on both sides. But eventually, after nearly a week of efforts, the Professor had agreed with Logan's permission, to monitor one of these dreams, to see if it matched the right sort of 'feeling' for a memory. It hadn't felt much like a victory to Logan, but it must have felt like a defeat to Xavier, judging by his sour expression.  
  
It had been nearly a week after the Professor had caved in that the next dream had come. Deep in the calm of the night, when slumber lay heavy on the mansion, Logan began to dream.  
  
He was standing beside a dark blue mustang convertible, probably from the mid sixties. He was waiting in front of a house, dressed like someone out of an old movie, with his hair cropped short in an effort to tame it. SHE stood there, her hair the color of cherry wood, red highlights shimmering over it. A pale dress skimmed over her body, hinting at the delectable curves beneath. She smiled at him, an expression so feminine that he almost felt like he'd swallowed his tongue.  
  
"Jeannie... you look... darling, you look wonderful." The words were an awed whisper.  
  
They were then eating dinner at this little Italian place that she loved, the Pacific at their backs, the candle light making her hair shimmer. He held a small box towards her, a ring glittering inside as he asked the most terribly important question in his life. "Jeannie? Will you... would you marry me?"  
  
Tears sparkled in her eyes as she flung her arms around him, sounds of pure happiness emerging from her rose colored lips. "I'd love to marry you, James Logan Howlett."  
  
In his sleep, the man now called Logan shifted, reaching out for someone that wasn't there. His lips moved, murmuring fragments of words.  
  
He was spreading a blanket on the beach, Jeannie holding the basket as she smiled at him. The sun had lightened her hair, turning it a glorious dark red, and the breeze made if ripple and dance in the wind. The sunlight gleamed off the small golden band on her finger, sparkling on the diamond beside it. Not the most expensive ring, but he had it's mate on his hand. They'd decided to have a picnic on the beach, to get the fresh air. Her stomach had been bothering her a bit, and they'd hoped the sea air would help...  
  
"I hope we packed enough food?" Jean was smiling at him.  
  
"Of course we did, darling. Even though you'll eat most of it. You have the healthiest appetite I ever met, woman." He grinned at her, wishing that he had a job more exciting than construction work, something that would make her proud of him. But he'd signed up for a term in the military after college, then things would be a bit better for them... He could give her the nice things that she deserved, take her to places, see the world together.  
  
Something made a small noise, and his chest hurt, this odd sensation as if he'd been punched by a very tiny, very strong fist. He blinked, a tendril of burning pain spreading from the center of his chest, and he could feel something damp on his shirt. "Jean?"   
  
He swayed, suddenly feeling weak, and his vision spun. There was a man behind her, a man with a gun. No, he had to stay awake, had to protect his wife! The world spun around him, and he felt himself falling backwards, into the air beyond the cliff... into the warm water, the salt burning at his chest, filling his nose and mouth, itching, burning, smothering him...  
  
He was naked, inside a giant glass tube that had been filled with some sort of cold gel. It clung to him, oozing into every crevice of his body. His muscles ached, and there was the deep parallel lines of slashes over his chest, as if something with large claws had attacked him. A small mask covered his nose and mouth, preventing the slime from entering his lungs. They were going to do that thing again, something that made the gel burn and sting, leaving his head feeling wrung out and fuzzy, his bones sore and his muscles as stiff and heavy as lead. The switches were thrown, and the fluid flared into reflected light, the pain starting only a few rapid heartbeats later, intense waves of agony...  
  
With a bellow, Logan threw the covers away from himself, claws drawn as he looked frantically around. But he was not in the glass tube. He was in a small, bland looking room at Xavier's place. Nobody would do things like that to him here... Here was a place that was safer. He knew that he'd ben dreaming, that he'd dreamed of her again, his Jeannie. The image of her face was fading, leaving an impression of a sweet smile and deep red hair... And the image of sunlight gleaming on matching wedding bands.  
  
They'd been married. He had a wife. Oh boy... a wife. Did that mean... could he have had a family? Would she even still be there? Where had 'there' been?  
  
He walked towards the door, swinging it open and stalking down the hall. His bare feet made little noise on the floor, and he could feel the faint chill on his chest, the place where he'd been shot and at a later dream point slashed sort of numb. The sweat pants tried to cling to his body, the faint sheen of sweat almost but not quite enough to hold them. He was going to see Xavier, to find out if the telepath still thought he was imagining the fragments.  
  
Charles Xavier was in his office, half collapsed over his desk, hands clutching at his head. He was muttering something, words about 'damn poor idea of a gift' and 'physical sensation manifesting'. Quite likely, it might have connected to Logan's dreams. Frowning, he sniffed the air. The Professor had been afraid... and there was the faint scent of dry painkillers, the stronger sort coming from a bottle on the shelf. He pulled it down and placed it on the desk beside Charles, moving over to pour out a glass of water so he could swallow down the pain killers.  
  
He put the water beside the pills, and watched as the man's eyes practically lit up. "Still think I'm imagining the whole mess?"  
  
His hands were shaking as Xavier swallowed two of the pills, some of the water spilling over his hand as he gulped it down. "That was... you have extraordinarily vivid dreams." He rubbed at his chest, frowning. "But... you were right. Fragmentary and incomplete as they are, it did feel like bits of memory. And there was a bit of a resembelance to Jean... our Jean, that is. How often do you have those?"  
  
Logan dropped into the other chair, running his hand through the tangled mane on his head, pulling through tangles. "The parts with Jeannie... maybe once or twice a week now. The tube... those have been getting less frequent. No more than five or six a month now... Being here's helped a lot with those. They used to come every few days."  
  
"I think I begin to see a cause for your surly temper. Dreams like that..." Xavier shuddered, still looking pale and shaky.  
  
"Can we figure out where I was? Where the restaurant was, the college that I met her at... We had a house together..." Logan let his words die away, knowing that Xavier would pick up the rest. 'I was happy there. I want that back, damn it.'  
  
Xavier nodded, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, the other searching for something in one of the drawers, finally producing a handkerchief. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nostril, a sign of some sort of psionic exertion? Or maybe the air was just too dry in here... "There may be some difficulty in tracking down where you were, and what happened to your Jean. We will most definitely try, but there could be delays."  
  
"I've spent years not knowing where I came from... a few more days can't make that much of a difference." Logan shifted slightly, his fingers drumming on the edge of his chair. "There have been more of them... more of the happier ones. Those are better... but I want to know more. I want to know more than a name, I want to know what sort of man I used to be."  
  
"We'll find something of who you were, I promise. And we'll find out what happened to your wife." Xavier's voice held determination, a promise of how the future would be.  
  
end Hidden in the Past: Lost Marriage. 


	5. Sorting Things Out

Hidden in the Past 5: Sorting Things Out  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
main characters: Xander, Logan  
  
story 5 in Hidden in the Past  
  
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or from the X-Men movie.  
  
distribution: Twisting, Paula, anyone that asked for permission for one of the earlier Hidden in the Past installments.  
  
summary: Logan comes to Sunnydale to find his past... and discovers his son, Xander. set in season 1. post X-Men Movie.  
  
Logan had been scouring his dreams and the fragments of memory for specific details. He wanted to have something that he could use to get a location, to find answers. A name, a city... some specific landmark, more than an Italian restaurant that had an ocean to one side. If he could find a place to start...  
  
Her name had been Jean Phillips. He'd remembered it, along with little fragments of what might have been a wedding. It wasn't a lot to go on, but it would be a place to start. He began searching for information on a female Caucasian, Phillips, Jean. Other dreams had placed her in a college, still in that same town near an ocean.  
  
When he finally found her, it was purely by chance. An old obituary from her father's death listed the surviving relatives, including one Jean Phillips, of Sunnydale California. Finally, he had a location, a place to start looking deeper. A place to go. Sunnydale, California.  
  
Remembering the run around that Chuck had given him about the dreams that had been memories, he decided not to worry about going with back up, or the support of the team. But, it wouldn't do to just vanish, no, that would upset Marie, and be a damn foolish thing. He decided to stop first to talk with Marie. She was on her way to study, arms full of some books and a bag of microwave popcorn.  
  
"Marie. There's... I wanted to let you know." How could he explain this? He didn't want her to feel like he was abandoning her like her parents had.  
  
She smiled at him. "Logan. What's going on? Does this have anything to do with why you've been talking to the Professor a lot?"  
  
"Yeah. I've... I've found some bits of memories, and a name. I wanted... I need to go look into it." He wanted her to understand that he wasn't deserting her, that she wasn't going to loose this new family.  
  
"Of course you have to go! I know how much it eats at you to not know... I've had you inside my head, remember? Just... be careful?" Her teasing grin ensured that there was no sting to her words. "Now get out and find the man you used to be."  
  
Logan almost laughed. "You got spunk, kid."  
  
But it wouldn't do for nobody to know where he went, what he was planning. Best tell the person who'd been the most supportive through this, even if half of that had been the much politer version of 'stop wasting time and get your act together'. Ororo Munroe.  
  
He wasn't sure if she liked him, he wasn't even sure if he liked her sometimes. But he definitely respected her. She had courage, and cunning, and some impressive abilities. He would explain to her what he was doing. She would most likely understand.  
  
She was in the gardens, hair loose, watering a small rose bush. Looking over at him, she gave a small smile, one of puzzled good manners. "Logan, good morning. I wasn't expecting you here."  
  
"Morning to you, 'Ro. I'm going to be leaving the mansion again." He just didn't understand her sometimes... most of the time, actually.  
  
"Why... does this have to do with the memory dreams?" She looked thoughtful. "You do not wish to take anyone with you?"  
  
He shook his head. "No... especially not with the amount of foot dragging that Chuck gave me about all of this. I told Marie that I'm hunting for my past... But I wanted to tell you where. In case something goes wrong.. You're the safety net."  
  
"That's... quite a lot of trust to put in me. Why me, out of all the people here?" She had put the watering can down, and was giving him this look, as if she could pluck answers from him by searching his face.  
  
"Because I respect you. You have very useful abilities, and I don't just mean the mutation. You keep a level head in emergencies, you sure as hell don't leave people behind, and you're the only person here that I don't think would give me hell about trying to do this on my own."  
  
She smiled, the expression as stunning as the sun appearing from behind clouds. "I'm honored. But, please be careful. And perhaps you could check back occasionally? That way, if you do not, I will know something has happened?"  
  
"Right. Every two days, more if there's something big. I'm going to go to Sunnydale, California. Supposed to be a little town by the ocean, quiet and pretty much bypassed by the urban sprawl." Logan's voice had slowed, and he tried to puzzle out the feelings that he had.  
  
"Supposed to be?" Apparently, some of his suspicions had transferred to Ororo.  
  
Logan shook his head, wishing that everything made sense to him. "I can't explain it, but... It just doesn't feel like it would be that simple. And when is any place ever that quiet, that safe? I just... I feel like there's something rotten in Denmark, and I don't know what."  
  
"That makes sense. Good luck to you, Logan." Ororo's words almost felt like a formal blessing.  
  
"Thanks." With that, he turned to go get ready. He wanted to take a few things with him, make sure that he was prepared.  
  
end part 1.  
  
Xander glared at the book in his hands. He despised his math class, even if he could follow most of it, with a bit of help from Willow. He'd rather be outside, running, practicing fighting, hunting vampires... anything. But no, he'd come here after school, to the not so happy Harris home. The door slammed downstairs, and he could hear his father complaining about something at work, some idiot in management hiring a mutant to work in shipping and receiving.  
  
Forget this. No way that he was staying in here for one of Mark Harris' soon to be drunken rages. He slipped over to the window, opening it up and ducking out, a careful movement having him crouched beside it on the slanted bit of roof. He edged the window sill down, so that it was only open a few inches, not enough to inspire suspicion. He moved slowly across the roof, lowering himself to the garage roof slowly to avoid any betraying noises. Following the solid support beam so as not to crash through the flimsy garage shingles, he leapt to the ground beside the garage, confident that nobody would see him.  
  
It wasn't until he'd moved from his careful landing to a steady lope towards Willow's house that it really occurred to him what he'd done. He'd gone across the roof without loosing his balance and jumped off of the garage landing safely and quietly. As if it was a perfectly ordinary thing. Could he blame that on a residual hyena effect? Hmmm... Probably not, except that the Pack Leader didn't have the same conventions about what was and wasn't a good entrance. That meant the abilities were all his...  
  
"Oh yeah, things have definitely gotten a bit stranger here. Got to talk to Wills about this." Xander shook his head, wondering how he could even explain it. After all, how can you not realize that you're crossing the roof and jumping off the garage?  
  
He was still feeling worried and freaked out about the whole thing by the time he got to Willow's house. Her parent's weren't home, nobody but Willow and the mailman had even been to the door for days... And the fact that he still had the hyena intense smelling ability was just weird. He let himself into the house, walking to the kitchen. He felt hungry, maybe he could fix himself a sandwich. Except that there was not a lot of food, and most of it was things like pasta, vegetables, strange canned things that sounded nutritional and possibly foreign.  
  
He caught her scent before he heard her footsteps. Willow... and something had made her sad. When he figured that she would hear him, he called out. "Hey Wills. Got some time? I think there's more weirdness resulting from fun time with hyenas."  
  
"Sure, I have all the time in the world. We can sit in the living room." Her voice was oddly bland, as if... as if she was trying to flatten the emotions out. She smelled like she was trying not to cry.  
  
Uh-oh. He knew something was wrong, and the way that she was trying to stuff every thing down... it was only a big sign that something was really bothering her. They moved into the living room, and he sat down, pulling her down beside him on the couch. "I was just freaking that I sort of accidentally ducked out the window, walked across the roof, and jumped off the garage. What's got you upset?"  
  
"It's... I shouldn't let it get to me. Really." She sniffled a bit, and the scent of tears and sorrow was so thick that Xander could almost taste them.  
  
"Come on, I can tell you're upset. You can talk to me... won't even tell anyone if you don't want me to." He wrapped his arm around her, and she burrowed closer to him, tears flowing onto his shirt.  
  
"I had a call from my parents. They... they're not coming back for another month. Something about a conference about the mutant issue and how it will affect the psychological practices. They were just so... so cold. Like there's no commitment there, you know?" Her voice was a bit muffled as she spoke into his shoulder. "Like I don't matter to them."  
  
He hugged her close, his eyes going shut as the darker part of his mind that had been opened up by the hyena contemplated her parents dying horribly. Torn apart by wild animals, or smashed on sharp rocks... "I'm sorry Wills. They don't deserve you. You're family to me, even if they aren't here."  
  
"We don't need to set a pack of wild beasts to tear them apart. And yeah, I have you. My best friend..." She looked up, her eyes still filled with tears. "Maybe we could order pizza? You can get yourself a big one that is entirely non-kosher."  
  
"Pizza! Yes, Wills, you are a life saver. How did you know..." Xander paused, trying to find the right words. Willow had known exactly what sort of images were going through his mind, but how? Was it just because she'd known him practically forever?  
  
She frowned a bit. "You didn't say that? I could have sworn that you did... Maybe it is just that we've been friends forever. Or maybe... do you think maybe there's something in the air... some hellmouthy influence to make mutants more likely? Maybe I'm some sort of mutant mind reader... Everything's changing, Xander, and I think it's only going to get stranger, you know?"  
  
"If this were any other town, I'd wonder how things could get stranger than they are. But... we hunt vampires, our pal Buffy the let's pretend nothing happened is the Chosen Slayer, we get to play name that demon... and last but not least we get mystical hyena possession." Xander just had to shake his head. Their lives sounded so bizarre when he put it like that.  
  
"Yeah... Our lives are so weird." She gave a faint smile, rather weak and wobbly, but there were no more tears. "And you started the whole nothing thing, mister what happened."  
  
Xander sighed as he wiped away the tear on her cheek. "I'll call for pizza. That should end up being relatively non-weird."  
  
end part 2.  
  
Xander was perfectly willing to let the whole 'Willow knew what he was thinking' slide out of his attention. After all, she was Willow, of course she knew all sorts of things. He was more willing to let himself think about the fact that she would always be there for him, and didn't think there was something wrong with him for these weird changes that had happened lately. After all, he was freaking out more than enough for both of them.  
  
But school seemed determined to try and freak Xander out. Bad enough that he still smelled everything, and could hear it, but... In History, he wrote the assignment down, nodding slightly at the way Mr. Chen phrased it, and then discovered five minutes later as he announced it to the class who wrote it down that he hadn't said it earlier. He was listening to some of the Cordettes talking about this beach party they were planning over the weekend, trying to imagine them in their swimming suits when Harmony turned around, glaring at him.  
  
"I'll have you know that my bikini is green, not red, and YOU are not invited to the party anyhow, looser."  
  
Larry was in the utility closet with Jonathan... eeuuch. That was enough to almost freak him out all by itself. Miss Calendar smelled like she'd been really close to Giles, although thankfully she didn't smell like Giles and sex. That was also entirely worthy of freaking out. Buffy was in the library practicing, listening to some female singer whining about her miserable ex boyfriend, and there was this rip in her shirt, along the bottom of the arm seam, just enough that he could catch glimpses of her bra...  
  
Buffy turned to glare at him. "What do you mean you can see my bra?"  
  
Xander gasped, mumbling something while gesturing at the sleeve, and retreated to the back of the library. Today was just freaky weird, and he was ready for it to be over.  
  
Willow found him, a somewhat puzzled expression on her face. Xander could tell that she'd been to talk to Miss Calendar, but had no idea why Willow looked so puzzled. "Hey Wills. What's up?"  
  
"I umm... I talked with Miss Calendar. Trying to figure out if there was something hellmouthy at work about me knowing what was in you head. She... she told me that I have the potential to learn magic. I could be a witch. I'm sort of trying not to freak." Her eyes kept darting around, her fingers twitching and fussing with a loose thread on her sweater.  
  
Blinking, Xander considered that. "A witch? Like Catherine Madison? ummm..."  
  
"Yeah. Ummm. She doesn't think that the magical potential would be causing me to hear things that nobody else does." Willow sighed, sitting down beside him. "So I have nothing as an explanation beyond the fact that I've known you forever."  
  
"So... our band of Scoobies is evolving? We'll have Buffy the Slayer, Xander the mutant, and Willow the witch? And Giles and Miss Calendar... are they... they're..." Xander's mind refused to let him finish that sentence.  
  
"Dating. Yes, they are. They seem happier because of it." She gave him a small smile and passed him a chocolate bar. "I've found that chocolate helps in times of mental stress. It's even been documented."  
  
"Let me go on record as saying the super sniffing thing has a downside. I get way too much information sometimes. And we don't want you going all cheer-crazy like Catherine did. Although hexing Cordelia might be pretty cool..." Xander wanted Willow to feel calmer, so he joked with her.  
  
Willow giggled. "I can't hex Cordelia! I... don't know how. Wait, I should say because it's wrong..."  
  
Xander grinned at her. "So... shall we try a patrol tonight? While Buffy is off making goo goo eyes at Deadboy?"  
  
"That could be dangerous... maybe if we don't go into the places with the bigger nests? I'm not a super hero here." Willow looked thoughtful, as if her mind was already chewing the problem apart. "I can check the coroner's office for strange deaths."  
  
"The fact that checking the coroner's seems perfectly normal is almost as bizarre sounding as the way my day's gone. I mean - Larry and Jonathan in the utility closet. That's just wrong. And Harmony jumped all over me about the color of her bikini when they were talking about their beach party, which I am most clearly not invited to attend. And... I seem to have heard the history assignment before Mr. Chen actually said it." Xander gave a slight shiver as he reflected on the day so far.  
  
"if it's not me... Xander, maybe the telepath type is you. That's sort of cool." Willow was biting her lip a bit, her fingers still fussing with the loose thread on her sweater.  
  
"err... can I give it back? Or maybe pass it to you? I've already got stuff to freak over, I'm the hyena guy here, remember?" Xander felt dread churn and twist in his stomach.  
  
She gave a small, sad smile. "If you are a mutant telepath as well as the other things, then you can't give it back. Even if it does seem really weird."  
  
"So... you get to grow up to be the wicked witch of the trophy case and I get to be the hunted maybe terrorist boogey man? This sucks. But at least I've got my best bud with me." Xander sighed, feeling change creeping up to choke him. "So... is this freaky mutant thing coming from one of my parents?"  
  
Willow looked at him, her eyes filled with thoughts and questions. "I have no idea. But I can do a sort of background check on them, look for weird stuff."  
  
The whole thing sounded way too bizarre. "You want to run a background check on my parents? That's just... wrong sounding. Go for it."  
  
end part 3  
  
So this was Sunnydale. It didn't seem like much, abandoned warehouses and empty factories loomed at the edge, like char edging a half burned paper. He could see a cemetery, large and frequently used. There was something in the air, not just the scent of the ocean, but... this feeling of something wrong. Logan couldn't explain it, but there was something not right about this place. He began his search for a suitable cheap hotel, and in the process passed almost a dozen churches, and another small cemetery. There was a scent in the air, one that reminded him of death, but not decay.  
  
He was rather on edge by the time he found a hotel. The fact that there was a small cross carved into the front of the door, and another hidden underneath the inside window grated at his nerves. He felt like he'd walked into a horror movie and was somehow missing all the warning signs. But he was sure of one thing. This was not some safe, sleepy little town. Logan just didn't know what it was yet.  
  
Dialing the mansion, he shifted on his feet, wondering just what was wrong with this place, and why it hadn't been in any of those fragmentary memories. He briefly spoke to Ororo, having little more to say than that'd he'd arrived, Scott's bike was still intact, and there seemed to be something off about the town. Too many empty buildings. Logan' didn't mention the scent of death, or the feeling of danger-dread-wrong that the place was giving him.  
  
He felt much to restless. Maybe he should go for a walk, look for a fight of some sort. So, he left the duffel of things in the hotel, slipping the key into his pocket. Walking out, he just let himself meander through town. He wanted to get an idea where things were, to see if anything seemed familiar. He found himself in front of a coffee shop, named the Espresso Pump, and had the oddest feeling that the shop was familiar, but not the name. Shaking his head, he kept moving.  
  
Logan caught their scent before they attacked, dirt and old blood and slow decay, the reek of death and predatory glee... vampires. They tried to corner him in the alley, ridged faces twisted into sneers as they moved towards him, their foul breath emerging between yellowed fangs. "Guess what... it's dinner time."  
  
They lunged towards him, no finesse, no particular skill even. Dodging the first one, Logan his the second in the jaw, the weight of his bones adding to the impact. The one he'd hit staggered back, growling. "I'm not your dinner."  
  
Logan found himself grinning as the fight continued. They had no skill, but were strong and fast enough to make it interesting. He was feeling better by the time the fight grew dull.  
  
"It's been fun, boys, but I have other things to do." The claws slid forth with the now expected flicker of pain, and he slashed the head from the first one. The second just stared for a crucial moment, and found himself turning to dust as his heart was pierced and slashed by warm metal.  
  
Logan wiped the dust from his claws, not wanting to find out if he was allergic to vampire dust. It just seemed... He didn't want any still clinging to his claws when he retracted them. "Vampires. Wonder how many more of them there are around here? Maybe that's why this town stinks..."  
  
He went back to the hotel, trying to plan out his strategy for tomorrow. He wanted to find what had happened to Jean Phillips, the woman he was fairly certain he'd married. To find out who he'd been. Maybe even uncover something to tell him how he'd gone from whoever had known Jeannie to Logan the wandering mutant.  
  
Logan had the suspicion that there would be answers that he didn't like before everything came out. He just hoped there wasn't anything he couldn't cope with.  
  
end part 4.  
  
Xander made his way into the library, part of his mind still turning over what Mrs. Taylor, an old friend of his mother's had been saying. Somebody was asking about his mother. Some strange man with an out of town accent. On the bright side, the guy'd been asking questions in the daytime, so he couldn't be a vampire. But... why was somebody looking into his mother's past? And here he was, on Saturday, arriving at the school for some remedial studies for history. At least he wasn't at home.  
  
Buffy was training, sending kicks and punches towards a heavily padded Giles, who offered a few comments of her form, trying to correct balance and precision. But the comments lost a bit of weight when gasped out from impact numbed ribs.  
  
"Careful there, you don't want to break your watcher." Xander couldn't quite resist teasing Buffy a little.  
  
Willow dropped her pencil with a small near growl as she faced the computer monitor, probably glaring. "Why aren't there any good stories about mutants? Or witches? No heroic mutants rescuing people in distress, just scary mutants destroying buildings and breaking cars. No helpful witches except Glinda from Oz, just nasty old scary women that like to steal small children in fairy tales. uggh."  
  
Giles glanced towards Willow, his voice still a bit faint. "Mutants are... different, and therefore somewhat frightening. It is simple for the media to focus only on things that are easy... not so hard, Buffy. Easy to understand, like the different being frightening or bad. There is also the sad fact that very few heroes of any sort are particularly publicized."  
  
"But... what about mutants who just... want to have a normal life?" If only he had a way to let Giles know how important this was to know!  
  
"Who gets a normal life? I'd like a normal life. One where I have a medical program." Buffy smiled cheerfully at Giles while one foot sped towards his head. "And while I'm at it, I want a week of vacation somewhere nice every year."  
  
Giles blocked the kick, a movement that showed Buffy was definitely not putting her full strength into the move. "I don't think I've heard much about quiet mutants who don't want any attention."  
  
Willow looked towards Xander, her eyes full of emotions - worry, sympathy, friendship. "Probably not considered attention catching enough."  
  
"While that is quite possible, the fact remains that mutants are unpredictable, and dangerous." Giles sounded as if he was on the verge of slipping into lecture mode.  
  
"Giles? I umm... I think I have to go home. Some stuff I need to get done... Xander? Can I talk you into helping me move a few things?" She looked a bit nervous, her eyes flickering a little too much.  
  
Xander gave a half grin, certain that Willow was lying. If he was guessing right, she just wanted to get out before Giles started a mutants are dangerous lecture. The idea sounded good to him. "Sure thing, Wills. You can help me with that history project."  
  
They walked out of the library, arms laden with books. Once he was certain that Giles wouldn't hear them, he grinned at her. "What are we moving?"  
  
"ourselves out of lecture range." Her voice had a slightly hopeful, slightly teasing tone.  
  
Xander just laughed, finding the idea amusing. Even though she thought it was definitely of the weird that he was a mutant, she was still trying to keep him safe. "Thanks for the save then. Get anything on that history project?"  
  
"I found some stuff... it's sort of unusual, but I'm not sure how it all fits together. I can explain all about it when we get to my house." She was fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, something in various orange and gold stripes that nearly swallowed her.  
  
For a moment, he considered asking her if she was trying to hide in her clothing before it occurred to him that that was exactly what she was trying to do. She didn't want the sort of attention that some of the girls got. She didn't want to be judged by what size her breasts were, or how short her skirts were. She wanted to be judged for what she could do... the way her parents had sort of pushed her. "Yeah... we can go over that at your place."  
  
Walking in the Rosenberg house, he sighed. "What bizarre stuff did you find about my family? A criminal record for my dad? My mom's related to money? A Kennedy connection? Bacon link of three?" He grinned, dropping onto the couch.  
  
She sat down, her face serious. "Did you know that Mark Harris isn't you mother's first husband?"  
  
"There seems to be some guy trying to ask about my mother... say that again, Wills? I thought you just said something about my mom and husbands?" Xander had been only half listening, confident that Willow would go into detail, but that had grabbed his attention.   
  
"When your mom was still in college the first time, she married a guy named James Logan Howlett. They were married about a month and a half before he was attacked, listed as presumed murdered, body not recovered. Seems he got knocked over the cliffs, over by Hewitt Point, where there's that really strong undertow. Apparently the guy who did it then tried to attack your mom, and she was rescued by Mark Harris, who married her two weeks later." Willow paused, her eyes getting that unfocused look that said she was working on a problem. "Is that even legal? umm... anyhow, she was married to this guy Howlett first."  
  
"Whoa... nobody ever mentioned that. How long did they have to forget about that before I came along and changed everything?" Xander felt stunned. His mom had been married before? Something about that just screamed 'suspicious'.  
  
Willow looked at him, her eyes now focused on him, glittering intensely. "About seven months. And I checked the hospital records on you, you were sort of smallish, but quite healthy."  
  
"Umm, Wills? Seven month babies are generally pretty small and sickly." Xander had the oddest feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something. Something that would change everything.  
  
"I know that, Xander." She looked at her hands, and took a slow, careful breath. "What if you weren't a seven month baby? What if you aren't the child of Mark Harris, but the son of James Howlett instead?"  
  
He felt as if the world was spinning a bit, and put his hand out, seeking balance. "uhhhh.... yay me if I am Xander Howlett? What sort of guy was he?"  
  
"I sort of hacked the Sunnydale College records. He didn't graduate on account of being shot and falling into the undertow and presumed dead, but... he'd been attending the college with a double major in History and Military Science. Pretty good grades too... I think I'm jealous. I even found a picture. See what you think." Her hand was shaking a bit as she passed a printed page to him, the scent of the ink still strong.  
  
There was a black and white picture of a smiling couple, and a caption underneath - 'Howlett and Phillips Wed.' The man had dark hair that seemed to almost form a pair of peaks, and there was his mother, much younger, smiling, obviously so happy... He'd never seen her look so happy with his father... with Mr. Harris. There was also the fact that this Howlett guy sort of resembled him, or maybe it was that he resembled James Howlett. "Oh my God..."  
  
"Yeah, I noticed the resemblance too." Her voice was soft, full of too many thoughts.  
  
They both sat there for a while, pondering the implications of the picture. Xander wasn't a Harris, but a Howlett. And a mutant. He wondered if this picture had anything to do with the guy asking questions about his mother.  
  
end part 5.  
  
Logan was starting to feel frustrated. He'd been here for a few days, trying to find information on Jean Phillips. Apparently, it was Jean Harris now, and she worked at the local hospital. He'd checked the phone book, finding a couple Harris listings, and was debating which of them he should go try to check out. He'd gone out walking every night, feeling oddly confined in the motel room. Every night, he'd found vampires, every night he'd had to fight to keep them from feeding on him. Actually, it was pretty good exercise.  
  
It had also provided an excuse for him to not check out the addresses. He was feeling a bit nervous about it. It had been years... what if he'd been forgotten? What if it was all some elaborate fantasy? Or what if he had to explain what had happened to him?   
  
But it wasn't something that he could put off forever. Taking a deep breath in hopes that it would make this easier, He left the room. If only he could figure out why this was so much harder than facing a hail of bullets, or a vicious mutant almost twice his size. How could he be so unsettled by the idea of looking up a woman from his past? He shook his head, musing on his thoughts as he headed across town.  
  
Briefly, he paused near the town's main teen hang out, a club called the Bronze. There was someone else fighting a vampire, a blonde girl that had to be about the same age as Marie. But she seemed to have things well in hand, even making comments and insulting the vampire before stabbing it with something, a knife? He wasn't quite certain what she'd had in her hand, but whatever it was, the vampire turned to dust. She was quite the bundle of energy. But why was she looking for vampires anyhow?  
  
Pondering the girl called Buffy, and what sort of girl announced that she was 'Buffy the vampire slayer' anyhow, he shook his head. She didn't have anything to do with his reasons for coming here. He might as well keep going, heading towards the first Harris house. How hard could it be, anyhow? The worst that might happen would be running into a fight with something, right?  
  
Still trying to figure out why some girl would be out hunting vampires, he pulled out the map of Sunnydale that he'd picked up. He'd put together a list of the Harris addresses from the phone book, but that would only help if he had some idea where to look for them. After all, where in the hell was Oak Street, and how did he get there from the motel on... LaVerde? Shaking his head, he concluded that he definitely would be taking a while to find all of these places. Glaring at the map, he managed to figure out where he was, and a few more moments located Oak Street. Hmmm... hell of a lot of cemeteries in this town. The shortest route to Oak Street took him through a park and past a cemetery. Grumbling, he started walking, wondering how many vampires he'd run into tonight.  
  
Shaking his head, he pondered all the scents in the air. He'd started to adjust to the whole oppressive something in the air, a something he'd decided to think of as the stench of evil. There were the scents of various people, and the old blood and decay stench of vampires, and other scents, things that weren't human but he couldn't put a name too. If ever there was a place that might be a hiding place for mutants... well, they'd probably run a high risk of becoming vampire bait. He was starting to think it was amazing that anyone got out of this place alive. The idea that they could do it without an appalling amount of mental and emotional problems would be almost miraculous.  
  
The woman that he'd talked to had seemed... well, it was the feeling that he should know who she was but couldn't quite place a name to her. She'd been willing to tell him some things about Jean Phillips, such as the fact that she was Jean Harris now, but not where she lived. No other details that would help him find her. Which was what had him walking around this town hunting for addresses in the dark.  
  
The first address was a definite no. None of the scents of the residents seemed even remotely familiar. The same with the second. He started acoss town toward the third house, passing yet another cemetery and heard sounds of fighting. Fighting? Curious, he made his way closer. There was a young man with dark hair fighting what had to be a vampire, while a red haired female held two other vampires at bay with what looked like a super soaker squirt gun. The young man moved smoothly, confidently as he dodged at punched, and something about his fighting style seemed almost familiar to Logan. He felt a bit frustrated that he couldn't get a good look at the face of whoever it was.  
  
The vampires fell to the ground as dust, and the young man stopped, suddenly tense. Logan frowned, wondering what had changed. The wind had shifted, could the fighter smell him? Regardless, it was time to move on, to check out the other two addresses. One of them had to be the home of Jeannie.  
  
He stopped in front of the house on Mulberry Street. It wasn't particularly impressive, just a basic ranch style house. But... something about it seemed almost familiar. And he could smell a woman's scent, a familiar scent. His Jeannie lived here. There was also a man, someone who's scent made him growl softly, as if some deep instinct or buried memory said this man was an enemy. There was a third scent, one that suggested a bit of Jeannie, but definitely distinct. He'd have to guess a young man, probably Jeannie's son. But... something about the scent seemed almost familiar, and for lack of a better term, it seemed right to him.  
  
But why in the world would the boy have been jumping off of the garage and sneaking across the side yard?  
  
end part 6.  
  
Jeannie lived in that house. And a boy that jumped off of houses lived in there as well. What was he going to do about it? How did he approach her? He had so many questions, but there was one thing that he was certain of. The urge to go inside and shred the Other Man would not help things go smoothly. Perhaps it would be best to think a bit about things first, and approach her when he had calmed down?  
  
Instead, it might be good to try to learn more about what the boy was up to. Where had he gone after jumping from the roof? What had made him leave the house that way instead of the door?  
  
Questions danced in his head as he followed the scent. The boy had headed east, apparently calm. Long strides, dominant male pheromones... He didn't think this boy was the son of the other man. But why were his movement patterns so familiar?  
  
A snarl was the only warning he had before a vampire attacked him, trying to pounce from behind. He spun, his own growl filling the air, louder and more menacing than the vampire's had been. Claws flickered, and the vampire fell to dust, still staring in disbelief at the claws. Not a particularly impressive vampire by any stretch.  
  
That interruption attended to, he continued following the scent. It lead to a two story house, the yard a bit overgrown, hedges untrimmed, curtains closed. Walking over, he looked for a name on the mailbox, where block letters proclaimed 'ROSENBERG'. Hmmm... the scent had gone right to the front door here, which implied that he felt comfortable going in by more normal means than over garages, and presumably through a window.  
  
Careful investigation found a spare key, and he unlocked the door, making a quick inspection. The ground floor reminded him of a display home, with no personal photographs, no shelves of treasured objects. But the boy had sat on the couch, with a young woman beside him. She'd cried for some reason, but hadn't been afraid.  
  
Moving upstairs, there was an unused feeling room with a walnut bedroom set, a bathroom, and the girl's room, this one decorated with posters, a computer in one corner, a fish tank, and a board of pictures.  
  
On the one hand, he knew that he really shouldn't be in here, but he felt very curious. There was something about the boy, something that almost demanded he learn more. The pictures spanned years, the older one showing a red haired little girl and a pair of smiling boys, one with dark hair, the other more of a brownish blond. The pictures continued, the children getting older, sometimes with a blond girl laughing with them, sometimes with a couple that appeared to be the lighter haired boy's parents. About the time the dark haired boy looked maybe fifteen or sixteen, the other boy stopped appearing in the pictures. There was a blond girl in flashy clothing, and there was something different about their eyes, sadder.  
  
What was the most unsettling was the way the boy sort of resembled him. With the most obnoxious shirts. But the features... it was uncanny.  
  
Could the boy be his son? That would explain why there was no similarity to the scent of the Other Man, and the resemblance, but... The idea of being a parent was new and strange feeling.  
  
If that was the case... if he had a son... This was definitely not a good place for children. Not with the teeming numbers of vampires. Not with the reek of evil that was in the air. But, what could he do about it? He couldn't exactly go kicking down the Harris door and demanding the return of his... his wife and son? That had an oddly fitting sound to it - his wife and son. Too bad he had no idea how the boy, young man had turned out. Other than dreadful shirts and jumping off garages, which really wasn't helpful.  
  
Carefully, he let himself out of the house, locking the door behind him. He had a lot to think about. How to talk to his Jeannie, what to do about a son that he'd not even known existed...  
  
When he'd returned to the dingy hotel, he called Ororo. She'd wanted him to check in regularly. "Hey 'Ro."  
  
:Has your search been at all productive? Have you found any answers?: Her voice sounded a bit tired.  
  
Logan sat on the lumpy bed, feeling worried about Ororo. She tended to push herself too hard. "Productive... I'm not sure I'd say that. But I've found some answers. Apparently, I was here, almost twenty years ago. In the local college, and apparently I was a history major. I found... well, I haven't talked to her, but I found where Jeanie lives."  
  
:The red haired woman in your dreams?: Her voice sounded curious. :How is she?:  
  
"I haven't talked to her yet. But I know where she lives. She has a husband, and a son. I think... I think he might be mine."  
  
:What? Are you... Logan, are you sure?: The surprise in her voice was clear.  
  
"Sure that she has a son, yes. Sure that he's mine? No, but there's a few things... and I looked at a picture of him... I think maybe that's sort of how I looked at that age." Logan frowned, wondering all over again how to approach the young man, or Jeannie.  
  
:And is the place, Sunnydale, is it as safe as you expected?: She sounded as if she wasn't ready to talk about him having a son either.  
  
"Worse. I'd expected trouble, but I hadn't expected all the vampires. This place is evil." Logan sighed. "I don't like the idea of my son being here. Or my... my wife, assuming those dreams were real."  
  
:What do you intend to do about it?: Her voice was hesitant, as if she wasn't certain she'd like his answer.  
  
"I don't know." It wasn't much of an answer, but it was the only one he had.  
  
end part 7.  
  
Willow and Xander were smiling as they meandered back to Willow's house. For once, they'd actually done well when faced with vampires on their own. Okay, maybe it had been mostly Xander fighting with his super hyena enhancements, but Willow and her super soaker had kept the vampires from swarming them. Good aim with a squirt gun was having some benefits after all. And Xander had watched her stake a couple over the night that had been thrown to the ground, just darting in and stabbing before they could recover.  
  
"I'm thinking that maybe it's good that everything didn't go away or whatever let it still be there. I would have been... really dead on my own." Willow smiled at Xander, still apparently a bit shaken.  
  
Xander smiled back, hiding his frown at the various images of Willow, broken, crumpled, drained flittered through his mind. Were they his imaginings or hers? "Yeah, well if Buffy wasn't so hung up on deadboy, we wouldn't be out here trying to patrol by ourselves."  
  
"Yeah but..." Willow sounded as if she was trying to defend Buffy. "Well, okay, she shouldn't have ditched patrol with us. But we did pretty good! Or, at least, you did pretty good, and I didn't you know, scream or get knocked out or anything, so, yay us."  
  
Xander nodded. "Right. She ditched us to get kisses from the walking corpse. Last time we ever fall for 'meet me in Eternal Rest'... I'm telling you, it's just..." His words slowed, and he reached out, halting Willow.  
  
"Xander?" Her voice sounded worried, and there was a hint of fear in her scent.  
  
"Someone has been here. In your house." Xander's voice had a faint hint of growl. Someone had intruded on Willow's territory, and he knew that she wouldn't be strong enough to defend it in a fight... "Damn hyena instincts."  
  
Willow gasped, one hand clutching nervously at his arm. "Who was it? Are they still here? And umm... what did they want?"  
  
"I don't know who he is, no idea what he wanted, but he's not here anymore." Xander was frowning, wondering the answers to the first two questions himself.  
  
Stepping inside, he looked around, wondering why someone would be interested in the Rosenberg house. The only one who was ever home was Willow. Nothing looked out of place, everything just as neat and bland as ever. But the stranger had been inside, his scent hung in the air. He'd even gone upstairs, intruding into Willow's room.  
  
"Nothing looks out of place... anything been moved?" Why had the man been here? Xander frowned, uncertain of anything involving the other's motivation.  
  
Willow was looking around her room, the super soaker in one hand, her eyes wide. "Everything still here, papers haven't been moved, and... wait a minute, the pictures. Someone's touched the pictures. That doesn't make any sense. Why would someone break well, not really break but go into my house and look at the pictures on my board?"  
  
"I have no idea. I mean, no offense, but who'd care enough to bother?" Xander felt baffled and frustrated.  
  
Willow gave a small almost laugh as she sank onto her bed. "Yeah... who'd care enough to bother? Not like my parents would need to break in, not like any of their rivals would know about me to bother, and if it were someone upset about me hacking into a system, there'd be a mess, or a threatening letter or... something. Umm... you can smell him, was he human?"  
  
"I think so. A little different than normal, but... not demony, not dead so I'm going to guess human. Or maybe a mutant." Xander sat beside her, shoulders slumping.  
  
"And again I come to the question of why anyone would bother." Xander's sigh left him feeling almost more comfortable physically, but just as confused inside. "Will you be okay here tonight?"  
  
She frowned a bit. "umm... I think so. I mean, he was already here, did whatever, and he'd gone now, so I should be... safe enough."  
  
He was still unhappy about the whole thing, but he concluded that Willow was probably right. Why would the guy come back again tonight? He still didn't like it.  
  
He liked it even less when he realized that the guy had apparently followed his scent here, from the not-so-happy Harris home.  
  
"Who in the heck is it? And why was he here? Why would he care?" Xander just wanted enough information to figure out what to do.  
  
end part 8.   
  
Logan had found himself unable to sleep, even after a shower to soothe knotted muscles. As a result, he'd found himself laying int he bed, his hands behind his head as he tried to think about things. What had happened that he'd ended up elsewhere, in Stryker's Weapon X program? Why couldn't he remember, was it the Program or something else that had happened before, or after? Was the boy his son? Had he married Jeannie, or was that just a dream?   
  
What would he do with a teenage son? He didn't really know much about being a parent, but he did know that it would change things a lot. He knew this place was unsafe, did the boy? What was the name of his maybe son? How could he convince him and Jeannie to leave this miserable place? Did he want to try to be a parant, more than just by blood, but an actual guide and role model?  
  
While Logan had no idea how to convince Jeannie and the boy to leave, he knew that he wanted to be involved in the boy's life. And probably a good place to start would be to learn the kid's name. If he knew more about him, he might have some idea how to explain the fundamental wrongness of this place, maybe convince him to leave here. He wondered what the boy did, was he in sports, a good student? Did he have a girlfriend? The whole idea of suddenly being the parent of a teenager, possibly a rebellious, surly defiant teenager made him groan, and he closed his eyes, wondering if there was something to the whole idea of karma.  
  
But it was a place to start that he wanted to be involved, that he wanted the boy to be safe. Perhaps that he wanted to see what the boy already liked to do, where his interests were rather than trying to make him into a younger version of himself. He knew that wasn't what being a parent was about. But what was he supposed to do? Walk up to him and say 'hey, I used to be involved with your mom, I'm pretty sure that I'm your father, let's get the hell out of this town because it's wrong and filled with vampires?' That would probably be a miserable failure. Probably convince the kid that he had mental problems.  
  
If he could find a more believable way to explain the dangers of this place... could he convince the boy to leave? Could he convince him to listen at all? Maybe the boy would decide that some stranger, even someone that had been involved with his mother, was nobody to listen to, should be avoided. What if he thought that Logan was a danger to him? The very idea made him feel cold and angry inside, but he couldn't ignore the possibility. He had no real idea how things had been for the boy, how his childhood had shaped him.  
  
He needed to learn more about the situation before he tried to change things. Name, interests, habits of the boy, was Jeannie happy, how had she ended up with that other man, and why in the hell did he feel like growling at the very thought of the other guy? He knew that his instincts were a bit different, but this had to be more than jealousy over a half remembered love. He had to get a grip on his emotions.  
  
That prompted a bitter smile. Get a grip on his emotions. He'd been fighting to manage that for... well, as long as he could remember. So far, he'd done a bang up job. But this was important, if he couldn't control his temper, or at least reign it in, he would blow his chance for... whatever with Jeannie. Of at least figuing out the past, if not changing the future. And the chances for something with his probably son would be ruined as well. Probably a good thing that he hadn't left anything to indicate his visit to the girl's house. It probably wouldn't make the boy happy to think that someone had been spying on his friend.  
  
Maybe it would be best if he just tried to observe for a while before approaching the boy. If he could learn some about him before they talked... And maybe by then, the idea of parenthood wouldn't feel quite so awkwardly new and unsettling anymore. Maybe he could have time to make a few plans, a few possible things to do depending on what he learned. And in the meantime, he could kill vampires so that they wouldn't endanger his boy. It was amazing good luck that he was still around, considering this place.  
  
Logan wasn't very well acquainted with the Hellmouth's refusal to permit plans to go as their makers desired. He had no idea how much things would change, how little of his half formed plans would happen the way he'd imagined. No idea just how much living in this place of evil had affected his son. But he would find out soon.  
  
end part 9.  
  
Xander had decided that he'd try to get a decent night's sleep, and then in the morning, he'd follow the scent back to wherever the guy who'd been in Willow's house was staying. Since it was Friday, none of the teachers would be trying for anything too demanding, and it wasn't like he was a model of the perfect student anyhow. He'd just have Willow help him go over what he missed, and meanwhile, he could figure out who was checking out Willow's house and his house, and the big one - why. He'd like a few answers.  
  
Besides, this way, Willow wouldn't get all flustered and panicky until after the fact. Everything would be over and done with by the time she found out that he'd checked out the guy. Not that Wills thought he was helpless, especially now, but he was pretty much the closest to family that she had, and she worried. Probably a lot more than she would about her actual parents. But this was something that he had to do. He had to find out what this guy was up to, especially since human or mutant human didn't mean harmless.  
  
He pulled on clean clothing, nothing that would restrict his movements if the guy was trouble, and nothing that he'd be upset if it got torn, stained, or otherwise damaged. Just because the scent didn't give him the wiggins didn't mean that there might not be trouble. Especially here in Sunnydale, home of the Hellmouth.  
  
He slipped out the front door, just as if he was going to school, and made his way down the street, following the scent. It wasn't quite as strong as it had been last night, but he could still follow it easily enough. As he turned a corner a few blocks down, he had to laugh at the sort of absurdity of the situation. He was following a scent to find out why someone had been shuffling through Willow's house. The only part of the whole thing that didn't sound all Twilight Zone was the fact that he was skipping school to do it.  
  
Eventually, he found himself standing at a motel, not quite a scary place, but definitely on the cheap end of temporary shelter. Could vampires get into hotel rooms without an invitation? He shook his head, trying to remind himself to focus on first things first - find the guy who'd been in Willow's house, get answers. Carefully, he tried to find the room, and ended up in front of room twelve. Listening carefully, he could hear the sound of someone moving inside, smell the sharp scent of coffee.  
  
For a few very long moments, he just stood in front of the door, staring at it as questions and possibilities flickered through his mind. How should he do this? Just kick the door down, leap in, and demand answers? Or knock on the door like a sort of civilized person? Hmm... kicking down the door would definitely be seen as aggressive, possibly challenging behavior. Best wait until he had an idea what he was getting into before challenging. Raising his hand and swallowing his worries, he knocked on the door.  
  
A man's voice, deep, a bit gruff, the words sounding just enough different that he knew the speaker wasn't from around here. "Hang on, I'll be there in a moment."  
  
The door opened, leaving Xander face to face with... it was James Logan Howlett, the guy from the picture that Willow had found. But he didn't look any older, the sun was shining onto him, and the resemblance to himself was just... amazing and incredibly freaky. "You... oh, man. You were at my house last night. And Willow's house."  
  
His eyes narrowed a bit, and he gave Xander a searching look, as if he wanted to know how Xander had known. "Yeah. How did you know? What in the hell were you jumping off the garage for?"  
  
Something stirred inside of Xander, and he glared at the other man, trying not to growl. "Why do you care? It's not... well, actually it is. But why are you here now? You haven't been for a long time."  
  
"Maybe we should sit down for this." The other man's voice was softer, as if he was feeling just as surprised by all of this as Xander was. "I'm Logan. Who are you?"  
  
"Xander Harris. At least, that's what I'd always thought. Except that Willow did a little research, and now that I'm looking at you, I'm thinking that it shouldn't be Harris after all." Xander moved into the room, sitting on the ugly brown chair. Something didn't feel quite right, not dangerous off, but... like there was something odd about Logan's mind?  
  
Sitting on the edge of the bed, the man who'd called himself Logan looked at him, eyes intent. "What should it be then?"  
  
"Xander Howlett, after you. Your name's James Logan Howlett, and... you were married to my mom. You're supposed to be dead, but... you're not. So, where the hell have you been?" He couldn't help the question, it spilled out. If this man hadn't vanished, hadn't fallen over the cliff and never returned, he wouldn't have grown up with Mark Harris as a father-figure.  
  
Logan sighed, almost seeming to shrink into himself a bit. "I can't remember. I was in some sort of experimental program... the memories are gone. But... I had some dreams, things I thought were from my past. I wanted to find out. There was a woman named Jeannie with reddish hair, a restaurant... What's this about supposed to be dead?"  
  
"Willow found the police report. You were shot, fell into the ocean. They figured the undertow lost the body.  
  
"Shot... so I was married to her. Does everybody know more about my past than I do?" The last words carried a deep irritation, and there was an almost threatening change to his scent.  
  
Xander found himself growling a bit. "Look, I don't know who this 'everybody' is, but I only know because I had Willow investigate my parents. She found out that my mom had been married before, which was news to me. But I needed to know."  
  
"Did you just growl at me?" Logan looked surprised, and it seemed to have distracted him from his earlier anger.  
  
Xander felt his insides go tense, as well as his muscles. What if Logan got angry that his son was a mutant? What if he didn't like the idea? His hyena instincts wanted to growl, and he reminded himself that he wasn't the same pathetic tenth grade looser that he'd been before. He was the all new, half feral tenth grade social looser who could kick vampire ass. "Yeah. I seem to be a mutant."  
  
"Huh. Shouldn't be that much of a surprise, considering. Guess that comes from me." Logan sounded as if he wasn't thinking in a lot of detail, just trying to process everything.  
  
Xander looked at him, trying to compare the man before him to the picture that Willow had found. "So... you have something that keeps you from getting old? Whoa, that's just... sort of cool. And the whole smell thing."  
  
Looking at Logan, the man who had turned out to be his biological father, Xander gave a small smile. Maybe these changes weren't from the hyena after all. Maybe they were just things that he'd inherited from his father. Enhanced senses, the hair, he even sort of looked like him. Best of all, this meant that he wasn't related to Mark Harris after all.  
  
Wait just a moment... Logan or James Howlett, or whatever the right name was, had been shot, a clear effort to kill him. Then, Mark Harris had married Jean Phillips-Howlett just a really short as in maybe illegally short time after that. Had Mark Harris had something to do with the presumed death of James Howlett? "I think... I don't think you're getting shot and presumed dead was an accident or a coincidence. I think... I think Mark Harris had something to do with it."  
  
"Maybe we should find out what, then." Logan's voice had a hint of growl to it, and he smelled angry.  
  
But it was only right to be angry about someone apparently having tried to kill you. And it was a definite problem. "Hey, if you're not dead, then mom can't be married to Mark, it wouldn't be legal. Can we kick him out of the house?"  
  
Logan just bared his teeth in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Sounds good to me."  
  
end part 10.   
  
Logan watched as Xander used the telephone, calling someone. Calling Jeanie. He asked her to meet him at the Espresso Pump after she got off work, fending of unhappy sounding accusations of skipping school with a vague 'this is more important.' He watched as hands were run through dark hair, leaving it a rumpled disarray. Eventually, he hung up the phone, sighing.  
  
"I think Mom should know about this. And maybe she can give me a few answers. So, Espresso Pump at three thirty, when she's done at the hospital. She's a nurse." There was traces of pride and worry both in his voice.  
  
Logan watched as Xander sat in the ugly chair, wondering about him. What did he do, how were his grades, and... "Why did you go jumping off the Harris garage last night?"  
  
Xander looked at him, a few traces of amusement in his eyes. "I didn't want to take the door?" There was a pause, and the amusement drained away. "I needed to talk to Willow, and nobody would see me leave that way."  
  
"You know that it's not the safest out after dark?" The question came out, almost making him wince. He sounded like some bad after school special. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"  
  
"I skipped. Figured it was more important to figure out why someone's breaking into my friend's place than to go listen to something about prepositions and clauses." There was a causal indifference to his school that was obvious in his voice. "And yeah, I know Sunnydale's not too safe at night. You probably know that too... You can smell it. I had no idea how much minions stank, and the demons... let me just say deodorant?"  
  
Something twisted in Logan's insides. "You know what's out there, and still went out? Why? And yeah, some of them are pretty rank."  
  
  
  
"Yeah, there's big scary stuff out there. Much easier to fight it now... How could I not do something now that I know what's out there?" He looked so serious just then, almost like a grown man instead of a teenage boy. "Got to try to keep things safer, got to defend my territory..." The words were a low murmur, something he would have missed if he didn't have enhanced hearing.  
  
"What changed?" He had a suspicion that it was the mutation becoming known, but asked the question anyhow. He also made a note that school work and good grades didn't seem to be a high priority for Xander.  
  
Xander made a small shrug, his scent changing a bit, becoming a bit nervous, a bit agitated. "I got possessed by this hyena... it was freaky. I had all these senses, stronger, faster... and then there were the whole predatory instincts. Wills and I found a way to put him back, but... the stuff didn't go away. I thought it was some sort of after affects, but... Wills mentioned that it could be a mutation, and we started to think she was right. I'm a lot better at fighting vamps now."  
  
"So, was it you in the cemetery fighting vampires? There was a girl with you... Carrying a big squirt gun?" Logan asked the question, trying to make sense of his son. Possessed by a hyena? He'd never heard of anything like that before.  
  
Xander nodded, a small, almost proud smile on his face. "Yeah, that was me and Willow. Super Soakers with holy water do bad things to vampires - it's great. She started trying to do some research on my parents after the stuff didn't go away, found out my mom had been married before, checked out husband number one, James Logan Howlett. Someone that she met at college, and apparently, you were pretty smart. She said a double major in history and military science, and apparently doing pretty good at it. Wills said she was jealous. That's a compliment, she's smart."  
  
"How did she find the college records anyhow?" Logan wasn't certain, but he didn't think they would just let random people check those out. And the idea of being in college... with a double major? It sounded almost alien to him, and it seemed to fit at the same time.  
  
Xander made a small shrug. "She probably hacked into the college records, just like she hacked into the police files on your getting shot. And the hospital records to get more information on me and mom's medical history, and maybe the city hall records for the marriage information."  
  
Logan found himself nodding, a bit impressed. That wasn't the easiest thing to manage. Add in the fact that if she was one of Xander's friends, she was probably only about fifteen or sixteen... it was pretty impressive. "Does she hack into computer records often?"  
  
"Define often. She's currently trying to find things on mutants that lead normal lives, maybe even mutants considered good guys. The whole mutant thing sort of freaked us out a bit. Why, is there something you'd like her to hack into?"  
  
Logan looked at Xander, feeling amusement bubble up inside. Xander was something, not at all like a younger version of Wolverine, which could only be good. "What if I said I wanted her to track down and crack into military records?"  
  
"I don't know... We've never needed military information. Maybe we should ask her and find out?" Xander smiled, slouching a bit in the seat. "Buffy's going to flip..."  
  
The name caught his attention. "Buffy? Blond, close to your age, maybe five and a half feet tall, goes out stabbing vampires?"  
  
"Yeah. She's supposed to have this big ol' destiny thing. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She's a lot tougher than her name implies." Xander looked almost wistful, maybe he had a thing for the girl? "And it's not just stabbing, it's a wooden stake, put that into a vampire's heart and they go poof. Fire and sunlight do pretty good, same with beheading."  
  
"What's she think about you being a mutant?" Logan wondered how accepting his son's friends were.  
  
Xander looked at his scuffed shoe, his words almost guarded. "I don't know. Haven't told anyone but Willow."  
  
Logan wasn't quite sure how to react to that. But it did sound like Xander was putting an awful lot of trust in him, considering that they'd only just met. "Huh. So, tell me a bit about yourself. We got several hours before three."  
  
end part 11.  
  
Xander was a bit nervous as they made their way to the Espresso Pump. He had realized while covering the stories of his childhood that he was spilling an awful lot to this guy, but... he wanted to trust him. Wanted to believe in his dad, who wasn't Mark Harris. He'd explained some about how he'd met Buffy, how he'd learned about the scary things out there, about Jesse dying and how he didn't have anyone else but Willow, and the sort of friendship with Buffy. Now, he was feeling all exposed, and hoping that he'd been right thinking he could trust Logan, trust his dad.  
  
He was also wondering exactly how this would go over with his mom. After all, he was arranging her to meet someone that she hadn't seen in years. Someone that she'd been close to, someone that she'd thought she'd seen die. Yeah, his mom would be pretty surprised by this.  
  
They'd settled at a table near the back, Logan having a big cup of coffee. Finally, he saw her come into the building, still dressed in her dark blue scrubs, her hair a pretty red brown and piled onto her head. She didn't look old enough to be the mother of a teenager, but she looked... she looked tired.  
  
Walking over, she tried to smile, the expression faltering as she saw Logan. She just seemed to go pale, her eyes very large, ringed with white as she whispered a single word. "James?"  
  
Logan took one hand, tugging her towards a seat, which she sank into in stunned shock. "Hey Jeannie."  
  
"But... you were... you were shot. I thought... I thought that you were... You were gone, James. Why didn't you come back?" Her voice was still barely over a whisper, and practically shook with emotions, surprise, shock, hope, fear, and a not so suppressed anger.  
  
"I can't remember everything. But... Apparently I was taken for some sort of research program. I started having dreams... Memory fragments. I wanted to find you, find out if they were real. I'm... I'm sorry." Logan reached out, just barely touching her fingertips. It looked at if he was trying to reassure himself that she was really there, that she was flesh and blood and not just a mirage.  
  
"I want to believe that... But how can I know?" She looked at him, her eyes shining.  
  
Xander watched, feeling rather awkward. It almost felt like he was intruding. This was also more raw emotion from his mother than he'd seen in years...  
  
Logan put on hand up, towards the middle of the table, and slowly, three sharp metal blades emerged from the back of his hand, slicing through the skin, a few drops of blood falling to the table. "They took my memories, but I have these."  
  
She reached one hand out, almost but not quite touching the blades. "Oh my god... James, that's... that had to be horrible."  
  
"I can't... I can't remember it." His voice barely shook, subtle enough that only Xander caught it.  
  
Frowning, Xander tried to listen, feeling a bit awkward as he tried to look into the mind of his father, hoping that he wouldn't catch anything X-rated about his mother. There were jumbled images, a room with a tank of bubbling metal, a glass box beside it, a flash of floating naked and trapped inside a glass tube, the confusion of not remembering... He shook his head, trying to convince his muscles to stop quivering, reminding himself that there was nobody he could fight about that. Nothing that he could do.  
  
They started to talk, a few words, scattered questions about the past sixteen years, the sort of small talk of two people trying to make sense of something big and unsettling and confusing. But his mother was smiling, looked happy to see Logan. He couldn't remember his mother looking so happy ever before.  
  
Everything still seemed pretty calm, and even not to high on the 'things to wig about' scale, but... But it couldn't last forever. And, thanks to the delight that was living over the Hellmouth, things couldn't just go a little bad, they went a lot bad.  
  
Mark Harris stomped his way into the shop, scowling at everyone inside. His tone was harsh, angry that instead of being at home, fixing dinner or managing laundry, she was instead here, talking to some other man. "Jean! What are you doing here?"  
  
She flinched, and glanced towards Mark with uneasy eyes. Then, she glanced back at Logan, and something seemed to slid into her eyes, a dark, unhappy suspicion. "I was catching up with someone that I haven't seen in a long time. Do you remember James Howlett?"  
  
"You! You can't be here! You're dead!" Mark Harris recoiled, his eyes going wide as he sucked in his breath. He also glanced at the window, still bright with sunshine.  
  
Seeing that glance, Xander suddenly knew that the man he'd thought was his father had known about vampires, and hadn't bothered to warn him, hadn't bothered to warn his mother. The sudden knowledge sat in his stomach like lead. "He's not a vampire."  
  
"I got better." Logan's voice was flat, and Xander could feel something, a red angry something seething just below the surface of Logan's mind.  
  
"Nobody could survive that. It is't possible! That's why it was..." The words trailed of, but everyone could fill in the rest. Mark stood there, eyes furious, his face flushed and the veins bulging on his temple, at his neck, along his arms.  
  
"That's why you set it up, isn't it? That's why you arranged for someone to shoot my husband on the cliffs, it that what you were going to say, Mark?" Jean's voice was soft, but it shook with tangled emotions. Rage, fear, shock, and something akin to disgust, their scents swirling around her.  
  
"You were meant to be mine!" His angry bellow was almost in her face.  
  
"The only reason you ever had a chance was because I'd just seen my husband shot! Because the man that I loved... still love wasn't there! You wanted a prize, and that's all I ever was to you! Forget it." She turned, attempting to leave the store.  
  
With a sound that could almost be described as a bellow, he punched her, his fist hitting her in the back, causing her to fall to the ground with a sharp gasp. No sooner had he done that than Logan had moved, his fist connecting to Mark Harris' jaw, causing his head to snap back. Logan continued, blocking every blow from Harris, landing a few of his own, intended to stun, to immobilize rather than kill. Xander knelt by his mother, wondering if this was the first time Mark Harris had hit her or only the first time that he'd seen it.  
  
There was a scuffling noise, hard soled shoes, nervous men. Xander recognized the scents of a pair of police deputies. That surprised him, Sunnydale cops actually in a place to be useful? Looking up, he saw that they were wrestling Mark Harris into handcuffs, one of them now bruising around his eye. Somehow, he doubted that would help Mark Harris in his stay.  
  
He heard one of them reading the Miranda rights to Mark Harris, while the second began asking people if they could explain what had just happened. Things got pretty interesting when people started mentioning that not only had the fight started after Mister Harris had hit his wife, but that apparently, he'd tried to have the other guy killed. And there was something about maybe the other guy was supposed to be her husband?  
  
"Xander?" Deputy Sanchez, the guy most often sent to investigate and take reports from the assorted stuff that happened at the high school sounded a bit unhappy. "Xander, why am I not surprised that you're here? Can you tell me what just happened here?"  
  
Offering a small smile for the deputy, Xander sat back a little bit. "One of my friends sort of found a newspaper article that said my mom had been married to someone who wasn't Mark Harris. That would be him, James Logan Howlett. I was a bit confused about that, so... I asked him here to try and get a few answers, and then I thought that mom would want to know he was here, so... I called her and asked if she'd want to drop over after her shift. She came over, it turns out that he.. um, James Logan Howlett that it, was shot and fell into the ocean. Guess everyone thought he was dead. When D... Mark Harris came in, he got really angry, and started yelling, and there was something... I think he had something to do with Logan being shot. But Mom tried to leave, and Harris hit her... he hit her in the back and she fell down." Xander felt like things were spinning around him, all chaos and confusion. His mom had hit her head on the table when she fell, and there was a large bump, the skin split open and blood still trying to flow.  
  
"We'll have her taken over to the hospital to get checked out. And to see if she wants to press charges." Deputy Sanchez looked a bit unhappy about the whole mess. He looked especially unhappy about the knot on Jean's temple.  
  
Xander just sort of stood there as his mom was taken to the hospital, and Mark Harris was carted off to jail. Everything had changed just now, and he wasn't sure how things would look. "I want to talk to Willow."  
  
end part 12.  
  
So, after the police had left, Xander and Logan went to Willow's house. Logan wasn't quite certain what Willow would be able to do about this, but he could see just how important it was to Xander to talk to her. He wasn't really surprised that they returned to the same house he'd been in before, the two story house with Rosenberg on the mailbox.  
  
The fragile looking red head didn't look like someone that would be facing vampires in a cemetery. But she did have the sort of eyes that said she was always thinking, always planning something. She would be the person with a plan. The idea of her hacking into the computer records didn't seem quite so far fetched any more. He nodded towards her, uncertain exactly what to say.  
  
"Wills, this is... well, you found the info, so you know. But... he's my dad. And we talked... you can give the the unsafety speech later. But... Mark Harris is in the pokey and mom's at the hospital." Xander was pacing, short arcs that moved around the furniture as he ran his hands through his hair again.  
  
She sighed, and looked at Xander. "Calm down, relax, sit down. No more asymmetrical arcs or else I'll ask you to calculate their degrees." Her words carried a note of humor.  
  
"Yeah, like that would work very well." Xander dropped into the chair before giving a quick rehashing of the day's events, a bit more honest than the version he'd give the police.  
  
She looked amazed. "Wow, and sort of yikes. That's obsession for you, and I thought the report sounded just a little suspicious when I looked it up. But that's just way creepy, and over the top, and really stalker like. I hope your mom is okay, I could... no, there wouldn't be any records in just yet. Maybe an admitted at, but no details. So, what are you going to do now? I mean, we've figured out the whole what's with the two husbands thing, and now we know that it's definitely a mutation and where it comes from, but what happens now? Are you going to go away to live with him... um, with Logan wherever he's been recently? Are you staying here? Is he staying here? And how long can they imprison your.. Mark Harris? Do you want to start proceedings to change your legal name..." The words flowed in a stream from her lips, gestures accentuating them as she skipped from topic to topic.  
  
Xander just nodded, apparently following the whole tangle of words. "I don't know how long he'll be there, but hopefully a long time. No clue yet about who goes where, but yeah. Can I change my name?  
  
"I think maybe I'll stay here a bit. I need.. there are things I need to talk about with Jeannie. And I want to get to know Xander." Logan felt himself smiling a bit at her.  
  
"Willow's been like family for me. And she's also been the smart one, my salvation when it comes to school work." Xander grinned, obviously certain that he had one of the best friends in the world.  
  
Willow blushed, tilting her head down a bit and letting her hair fall forward, almost hiding her face. "It's not that bad, you just would rather not study is all."  
  
"Hey! I study!" Xander sounded almost indignant.  
  
She giggled, looking back up with laughter dancing in her eyes. "But most people study sooner than the night before the test."  
  
"I was possessed!" Xander tried to scowl, but his laughter ruined the expression. "Cut me a little slack, studying geometry wasn't a major hyena priority!"  
  
"Still, there wasn't much studying going on. And I think you still could have done... well, probably not. He probably would have skipped the test." She teased at Xander.  
  
Watching the two of them, he sighed, feeling a bit jealous at the friendship they shared. If he took Xander back to New York, surely he'd have to take Willow as well. Logan had a nagging suspicion that there would be some complications to that idea. He shook his head, considering everything before the words emerged. "Yeah, we're definitely staying in Sunnydale for a while. But not forever, this place is just... wrong. Evil."  
  
"That would be from the Hellmouth... Evil has a smell? Xander never mentioned that." Willow glanced at her friend, her eyes filled with questions. "You'll need to find a house, something better than that hotel, and can vampires go into hotels without an invitation? Maybe Giles would know, or Angel should if Giles doesn't. But... it should be interesting to have you here."  
  
Logan just sighed, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.  
  
end part 13, end Sorting Things Out. 


End file.
